Dreams and Strands
by Teyerin
Summary: Summary: A followup of sorts to Nightmares and Knots. Life goes on, but how smoothly?
1. Hiding

Dreams and Strands

Disclaimer: No word about entry into Wolf's World, where the characters of TOS and SVU originate from, so remaining in the real one for now. Original characters are mine.

It's been requested that either a follow-up of sorts be offered to Nightmares and Knots or some sort of continuance. So, here it goes (knowing what is/was in mind, but wondering how it will look on paper.)

Summary: Life goes on, but how smoothly?

Chapter 1 - Hiding

Spirited. That was the word Jack McCoy used to describe his mentor and friend. Spiteful was the word he reserved for her plotting partner.

"Danielle, how many times do I have to tell you that I'm not going back in there?" he said. There would be a few familiar faces for sure, but most of the people he wanted to talk to had left – claimed either by retirement or reassignment. When he heard Serena Southerlyn left to work for a defense attorney's office, he accepted it. That's how he lost Jamie. To learn he lost Serena to Paul Robinette's office, well…

Danielle Melnick wouldn't be detoured. "How else do you expect to pick up Alex, hmm? I'm not having you wait in the lobby. You've a bad track record with that, you know."

Jack shook his head, gesturing towards a bench by the guards' desk. "I'm sure Mr…." He put his reading glasses on to see the guard's name tag, "Hollands, wouldn't mind if I just sat here and read a newspaper. May I impose upon you, Mr. Hollands?" he asked.

"Mr. McCoy will not pass through those doors without you or Ms. Borgia," Mr. Hollands said. "You've his word on it."

"I'd rather have your word if I can't have him where I can see him. But, since I can just…" She shook her head and threw her arms up in frustration. "Fine, Jack. I'll take my minor victory of having gotten you into the building. One floor at a time, is that how this is going to go?"

"Yep," Jack said, accepting the newspaper Hollands offered with a nod of thanks. "Of course, I'd have rather started in the basement."

"You forget the underground parking garages, sir. You could have started on Level G," Hollands deadpanned.

"G. Do you hear that, Danielle?" He sat down on the bench, legs crossed at the ankles. "G."

"Look, wise guys, there is no parking garage below, and no letter G. Just… Jack…" She continued to shake her head as she passed through the gate. "You owe me a bottle," she said stabbing her fingers in his direction, then went to her meeting on the tenth floor.

"A bottle of what?" Hollands asked. "Cognac?"

"No. Aspirin."

----

Arthur Branch stopped to the stand beside the bench, reading the paper over the man's shoulder. "You know, I don't know why they call it news."

"Situations might be the same, but the names are different; that's new," Jack said.

"I was talking about the headlines about Sky Sweet, Mitch Carroll, and their kind." He clicked his tongue. "I would have been curious as to how you would have handled those cases."

Jack shook his head. "See, this is the reason why I didn't want to go upstairs with Danielle."

"I know. She told me you were waiting here. Or, and I quote, 'You had better be if you knew what was good for you. She knows where you live.' That's something a wife usually says, isn't it?" He sat down beside Jack as Jack folded the paper.

"She does know where I live, considering she helped me move in." Off of Arthur's look, "It's a small one-bedroom in the Bronx."

"The Bronx? Jack, what was wrong with sharing an apartment with Briscoe or moving to Maine to be with your daughter?"

Jack chuckled, hoping to see the two women he was waiting for soon. "Funny, I had at least three other people ask me that same question."

They sat in silence for a moment longer, watching the comings and goings.

"You know…" Arthur started.

Jack cut him off. "I know," he got up and returned the paper to Hollands, then sat back down. "Thought we settled-?"

"Just making sure. Your avoidance game's getting old."

"Don't take it so personally, Arthur. I just… I keep busy."

"Busy, yet not earning enough to rent a decent apartment if you're in the Bronx. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I'd find plenty of things to do there." He looked expectantly at the elevators, still not seeing either woman. "I've been teaching a couple of ESL classes, I tutor, and I'm a career mentor to a couple of bright individuals."

"I thought you already have that job," Arthur said, getting up. "Or, am I hearing things?"

Jack recognized Alex's laughter and credited it to something Danielle probably told her. Rising, he said, "I don't know, Arthur. When was your last hearing test?"

"Jack!" Alex embraced him. "One small step, I see."

"Hmph. And you thought I was the only one on this side of the tug-o-war rope," Arthur said. "If you all excuse me, please. Jack, don't be a stranger."

--------

"Had I known you two wanted to talk over your current case, I could have enjoyed time in the library instead," Jack said as he held the door open for the ladies. Danielle selected the restaurant; the only thing Jack did was follow her lead – this time.

"I thought we discussed this," Alex said, giving him a nod of thanks as he held a chair out for her, then Danielle. "You're not allowed to go hiding in libraries, corners or anywhere else where we can't find you."

He hated round tables. "I thought that was the purpose of hide and seek, or did you play by a different set of rules than I did?" He stopped her protest with a wink of an eye.

Danielle glared at him. "Did I say you owe me a bottle? At the rate you're going, it will be a case. Now, knock it off."

Jack looked over the menu as Alex steered the conversation to something else. "So, what did you and Arthur talk about?"

"Things." He looked Danielle in the eye. "Things I didn't want to talk about in the first place."

"Too bad," Danielle replied. "We're not the only ones who want to put you back where you belong. This nonsense about the Bronx-."

Jack closed the menu, slid it towards the edge of the table and rose slowly. "Had I wanted a confrontation, I would have stayed committed. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

Alex grabbed his wrist, none too gently for her. "Where are you going?"

He kissed the back of her hand. "Someplace you can't follow. In short, it's a 'guy thing.' I trust you to order for me, Dani," he said.

Jack splashed water on his face in an attempt to rinse away any strain he thought would be visible to the others. In truth, he wouldn't have missed this dinner date for the world. At the same time, he couldn't wait for a slightly calmer evening at Lennie's tomorrow.

"Pardon me," a gentleman said, reaching across Jack. Jack took a step back, face still in the towel he had in his hand.

Tossing the damp cloth into the basket, he stared at the reflection.

The gentleman with straight brown hair, brown eyes and slightly angular face looked back at him – without glasses. "You shouldn't keep your date waiting," he said then smiled. Jack knew that closed-mouth smile given how many times he'd seen it before.

Jack took a step back towards the door, wondering if he was hallucinating.

The gentleman, The Protector, left before Jack could find his voice again.

----------------

"I'm sorry if I feared the worst, Jack," Danielle said as they climbed the flight of stairs. "I understand if it was payback for this afternoon and I promise never to-."

He put a finger to her lips before turning to unlock the door to his apartment in the corner. Alex had wanted to escort him home, but the last thing he wanted was for her to navigate her way home from the Bronx. He would have argued with Danielle, too, but he knew that first of all, he'd lose; second, she'd probably follow him home anyway just to be sure; and third, he didn't want to be alone at the moment.

They entered the sparse apartment. "I'll call it even," he said, turning the lock in addition to the three deadbolts on the door, "if you forgive me for calling you 'Dani.'"

"Not so fast, mister," she said. "The price for a 'Dani' situation isn't going to get you out of explaining the paled face during dinner."

She put on the teakettle as he sat down on the couch, his fingers steepled before him. "So, the flu excuse-?"

"Flew out the window, Jack," she said taking a seat beside him. "Alex bought it to humor you. She isn't Connie's second chair for nothing."

Jack took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I thought I saw someone."

"Jack, you have a restraining order against Keagan, so why didn't you say something?"

He shook his head as he leaned against the couch back. "It wasn't Keagan. It wasn't Bruner." He sighed. "It's just me imagining ghosts coming out of hiding, that's all."

"I don't see why you won't give the police a description of the other guy. I'm sure they'll find him as soon as they have something to-."

Jack snapped. "There are fliers all over the country for Mark Bruner and have they found him yet? No. It isn't as if time is on our side, either. It wasn't then, it isn't now." He felt bad. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. Honestly, I just imaged some guy and I let the memories bowl me over."

"Liar," Danielle got up as soon as the kettle whistled. "What do you want?"

"Plain, thanks," he said. Had he been thinking clearly, he wouldn't have let Danielle anywhere near the kitchen, given the many empty cupboards. Any moment, he would probably hear a succession of opening and closing doors echoing nicely. It was his luck that he had Danielle's tea on the countertop. "Did you find your-?"

"Got it," she said. "Listen, the next time we go out to dinner, we're dining in, all right?"

"Got it," he said. The two of them back together on the couch, they sat and talked about their day, Danielle's filled with more interesting details than his. An hour or so later, he asked, "So, which one do you want?"

"The couch," she said, taking his cup from him.

Jack protested. "You had the couch last time."

"So, I suppose you're going to tell me those are the same set of sheets that--."

"No," he said, knowing she'd know he was lying. "I'm just saying-."

Danielle pulled him to his feet. "If you got a bigger bed, we wouldn't have this discussion."

"If I had a hide-away, we wouldn't have this discussion," he said. The 'stare-down' lasted exactly three minutes before Jack found himself on his way to his own bedroom.

---------------

Alex Borgia accepted Nina Cassady's invitation to breakfast – meeting at the coffee cart by the subway station. It was almost a daily thing if not for the differing schedules. They bought their drinks and Danishes, found a bench and sat down to talk about how their day would probably go.

"You know, we really ought to get social lives," Nina said. "Too much work and no play…"

Alex agreed. "I'd try going out on a date if I knew that I wouldn't have to look at prosecuting the guy later down the road."

"You're such a pessimist, Alex," Nina said. "Besides, I'd probably end up arresting my date first. Then you could prosecute him."

She laughed. "You're assuming we'd be courted by the same gentleman," she said.

"If he were the type to take us out on different dates, he ain't no gentleman." They both laughed at that.

Alex pointed out a handsome, unassuming guy. "Now, how much do you want to bet that a guy like that is safe, sane, single and-."

"You lost," Nina said noticing who she pointed to. "Two out of three's not bad, Alex, but…" She squinted to get a better look. "He's married."

"Let me guess, you're a psychic detective now, is that it? Pessimism contagious or have we both been in New York long enough to be paranoid?"

"No, yes and not yet, in that order" Nina said. "That's Dr. Stillman. It was his mother-in-law's oxygen tank that was found with Jack…" Nina took her time finishing her coffee.

Alex broke apart the remaining part of her Danish until she had a collection of crumbs. "You remember something like that?" she asked, folding her napkin.

"Are you kidding me? There are some details about that case I want to forget." She took the trash from Alex's hand and put it into her own empty coffee cup. "What about you?"

Alex studied the guy a bit more, intrigued, and then dismissed the silly thought. "During those visits all that time Jack was… He seldom talked about it. He didn't want to share and I didn't trust myself to know. Gut feeling tells me that Arthur and he exchanged apologies yesterday."

Nina shook her head. "I remember asking Jack to forgive me shortly after that first trial ended. I didn't think he wanted me anywhere near him after…"

"I apologized after that debacle of a third trial. After my 'outburst' to Arthur, Connie and I had a long talk. She thanked me, and then asked if she could join me on a visit. That was it. What is it with guys taking so long to admit to something?"

"They're taught to hide things. And when they do apologize, it's like looking for it in a hidden message."

-------

"The answer's correct," Jack said encouraging his student regarding a difficult math problem. "Now, you have to show your work as to how you got the result."

Benji Lopez stared at the paper before him. "I don't know. I just know it. I told you I don't get these kinds of problems. The math teacher gets a day off and he ain't-"

"Isn't" Jack corrected him.

Ben gave him a look. "The math teacher isn't helping me when I ask him. Why do you think I come here every day?"

Jack tapped the space in front of Ben with each point he made. "Because you're a great role model for the younger kids you read to. The other high school students talk to you more than me or the other adults here and…" Jack leaned forward as he added, "you have a crush on a certain art teacher's daughter."

"Mac!" Ben looked around as if afraid of getting caught. "That-! I-! You were a cop, weren't you!"

Jack laughed. "I said I used to work in law. It wasn't walking the beat. As for the last item, it isn't as if you hide your feelings very well. Angelique has asked me to 'translate your face makings' if you will." He copied down a math problem from the book. "What did I tell you about calling me 'Mac' around the others?"

"Not so loud," Ben said apologetically. "Sorry. It's just… Oh, come on, that's the same problem."

"I said not to call me that if the supervisors or students are within earshot. Remember the lesson about nicknames and respect? I don't want to get fired too soon here."

"You're a volunteer, Mac. They can't fire you."

"That's what you think, young man. Yes, it's the same problem. This time, we're going to work through it, got it?"

------

He walked the seven blocks home, stopping by the bodega to buy an evening paper. Ordinarily, he enjoyed sharing his morning paper with others down at the center, but Danielle probably helped herself to the publication as her bit of payback for refusing to get a phone installed yet.

As he finished climbing the flight of steps, he heard someone call out, "Johnny!"

He recognized the heavy accented voice. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Richter," he said to the stout Germanic woman who stood just outside her apartment across from his. "How are you today?"

"Good, good. Looksie, I've your newspaper right here." She held up his morning paper like a baton. "I would have given it to you sooner but you leave too quickly. I didn't want that bum, Mr. Hans, stealing it from you. He does that, you know."

Jack smiled, aware of the long feud between octogenarians Mrs. Greer Richter and Mr. Merle Hans, courtesy of a crash course from one of the children who lived upstairs. "I appreciate you looking out for me, Mrs. Richter. Thank you."

"No problem. You let me watch your back and you be okay. Okay?"

"Okay," he repeated. He opened his door just as she closed hers. Before he finished with the locks, something fell from the newspaper.

He went about busying himself in the kitchen, pulling out a cup of soup from the fridge, a package of crackers and a can of lemon-flavored soda. That was all he called an early dinner. Try as he might, Jack could barely keep much more than that down when he was alone.

He pulled out the puzzle pages from both papers, folded them to the word searches, and then sat down at the small table, puzzles in front, dinner to the side. Completing the puzzles brought back memories of staying with Lennie. Granted, conversations were nearly absent, but the company alone was worth it.

When he had finished both puzzles and meal, he washed the few dishes; set them on a towel to dry; tossed the papers in the recycling box, and then picked up a book to read. This was his ritual every evening, until ten thirty, when he usually went to bed. But, tonight, the ritual was completed a few hours earlier.

It was then he noticed the item on the floor. He picked it up, body going numb as soon as he read it in one glance. The item fell in one direction as he dropped in the other onto the couch, shuddering.

Only one person had used that phrase during his captivity. When it was said, it was usually during a mending time after an assault or an onset of a migraine, or on a rare 'just because' occasion. Those two words, along with a gentle current of shh-ing calmed Jack countless times.

While those words could and were said in any number of situations by a number of people, it didn't have the same effect as it did then. Then again, maybe it wasn't supposed to, he told himself. After all, if he applied the same context of those words when either psychiatrist or friend said it, it probably would have hurt.

That was never the case when Alex Borgia said it. She kept him from running once, hiding twice, and now…

Jack read the message again once he had his breathing under control. Plain, simple, printed on a bar napkin from the restaurant. Two words written with a black fountain pen, there was just enough pressure applied for the ink not to run completely through the folded square. Two words that couldn't be further from the truth, he felt as if everything he had gained after seven months of intensive therapy was lost in a matter of seconds.

_'You're safe.'_


	2. Hastiness

Dreams and Strands

Chapter 2 – Hastiness

A knock at the door startled Jack from his shock. Seeing a familiar face through the peephole, he undid all of the locks. "Detective Logan, what brings you out here?"

"I'm off-duty, Jack, so drop the 'detective,' will ya? Lennie told me to pick you up." He closed the door behind him and leaned against the wall, studying the door. "You know, folks outside of the Bronx don't need so many locks."

"Well, someone has to put them to use," Jack answered, matching Mike's smile.

"Seriously," Mike said putting his back against the door now, "if this was an emergency, how much time would you have lost undoing all of those?"

Jack shrugged his shoulders. "Let's not test that, all right? Truth be told, there's an interesting story regarding those locks."

"I'm all ears." Mike shook his head. "On second thought, save it for later. You might be able to distract Lennie long enough for me to win some of my money back."

Jack looked at the younger man, still wanting to call him detective out of respect for what was earned. Lieutenant might fit Logan just as well, he thought, or even Captain. Smirking, he said, "Mike, I thought it was Anita you had to worry about."

Mike deadpanned, "Why do you think it's a 'guys only' gathering? Come on, let's get outta here."

Jack grabbed his jacket, absentmindedly stuffing the napkin in a pocket.

--------

Joe Fontana dealt out the cards with an unlit cigar in his mouth. He ignored the remarks John Munch made as the set of five cards were picked up by the players.

"I don't know why you bother, Joe. I mean, if you're going to have it, you might as well light it. And since you aren't going to light it, why have it?"

Mike threw his two cents in. "Raise your hand, gents, if cigars appeal to you." Joe, Ed Green and Fin Tutuola raised their hands. So did Munch.

"You don't smoke, John," Eliot Stabler said. "Weren't you just griping about points?"

"Pointless things, you mean," Fin said. "Every now and then, I don't mind a good cigar. Not like I've a spending allowance for the stuff."

Ed nodded. "I know what you mean. It was a nasty habit there for a while." He folded his hand of cards as soon as Eliot doubled the bet. "One costly habit used to excuse another."

Lennie gave him a look. "I don't ever remember you lighting up once, Ed."

"Got them for my Old Man," Ed said. "You know, some dads take to getting gifts like that still."

"Your generation," Joe, Lennie, John, and Jack said in unison.

Eliot shook his head. "Now wait just a second here, guys. What was the typical gift your kids gave you on Father's Day?"

Joe, Mike, John, and Ed threw their hands up in dismissal as the others exchanged glances.

"Ties," Jack said, tossing his share of chips in.

"Ties," Lennie said, grabbing a larger collection.

"Same here," Eliot said. He threw his cards down as Lennie raised the bet.

Fin looked at the pile of chips and said, "A gold watch." He put the cards face-down in front of him before pushing his entire chip pile into the middle of the table. "All in." Everyone but Lennie threw their cards down in disgust as the host accepted the challenge.

"You're no Van Buren," Fin said as he lay down his four-of-a-kind.

Lennie nodded. "Yep. And you're no richer now than when you walked through that door." He set down a straight flush. "I appreciate your contributions, really I do."

Mike shook his head. "Jack, you were supposed to help me distract him here."

"With a dollar left? I don't think so," he said chuckling.

"In that case," Joe said, "can you spare a dime?"

Jack emptied his jacket pocket, some coins, and the house keys falling onto the table; the crumpled napkin missed as Fontana picked it up from the floor. "Try three," he said.

"I'll see your three and match you your three keys," John said. "Where do you live, Fort Knox?"

"The Bronx," Mike and Lennie said.

Jack shook his head. "You try to make it sound so terrible," he said. "It's affordable rent."

Munch sighed. "That's because they let you save up for your medical or funeral costs, that's why. And by the looks of things, you probably still eat like a bird."

"They eat twice their weight," Ed said, getting up to get another drink.

Joe studied the napkin. "I'd say you've picked some nice dining establishments. Tribeca Grill, I'm impressed." He read aloud the message. "'You're safe.' Melnick picking up where she left off?"

"Oh, of course," Jack said, determined to spin it away from the truth. "Because we're both going to hastily rush down the aisle before we get too senile." Pointing to the words on the napkin, he added, "That's the modern equivalent to 'I do' or 'I accept,' you know."

Lennie knew a tell when he saw one. Instead, he said, "See, there's hope for some of you young single saps yet. Eliot, how about telling these boys the joys of married family life?"

"How about during the cab ride. I've gotta get home in time to give the girls a 'good night' kiss."

Fin made a face. "At this hour? Are they still up or-?"

Eliot shook his head. "They know if their daddy forgets. And I hear it the morning after. So, anyone else…?"

Fin, Munch, and Logan took up the offer as Fontana and Green began clearing away the mess. Jack took back the napkin and stuffed it along with the other items back in the pocket.

The apartment now twice as roomy as before, Lennie said, "Out with it, Jack."

"With what? I could be a married fool for a second time."

Ed laughed. "There's a reason you two have me convinced not to even try it once." He fell down onto the couch. "By the way, I'm making sure you get home, in case you're wondering."

Jack looked at him. "And here I thought you wanted the late night tour. Guys, I-."

"I know you're giving us the full story about the napkin," Fontana said arms folded across his chest as he stood blocking Jack's way to the door. "Who wrote that? Don't tell me Danielle, because I know her writing as well as you do."

Jack wanted to ask about that, to stall, but thought better of it. Three against one didn't make good odds no matter how he looked at it. "It's nothing."

"It's Keagan," Ed said. "Look, we can go and haul him in right now and-."

"And what?" Jack should have corrected Ed, but then he'd have to explain… "You know, I have to go. If I'm out too late, I'm sure Mrs. Richter will call the police. You two don't want to answer that late night page now, do you?"

Lennie wasn't buying it. "They get the call only if you turn up dead. That note-."

"Is worth ignoring. Look, if I told you I met up with a woman at the bar before or after dinner with my 'date,' would you have believed me?" Jack looked at each man in turn awaiting a response.

Joe leaned back, giving Jack a sort of look of appreciation and awe. "You're a scoundrel."

Ed laughed silently to himself as Lennie shook his head.

Relieved, Jack changed subjects. "On the trivial side, not saying it's here or there," Jack said, attempting to get to the door, "tonight's chat brought some interesting things to mind."

Lennie and Joe exchanged slight nods before Joe moved aside. Jack grabbed the doorknob harder than he thought then loosened his grip before anyone noticed the white knuckles. "Yeah, well, none of them wore ties, gave hints of family or smoked." He turned the knob, "One would have thought Drake smoked, but…Yeah, those were some of the silly observations. I mean, Barnes smoked, but rarely."

Jack turned to look at the empty poker table. "Lennie, next time you hustle someone this well, I want to be around to watch."

"Call it an equal watch, friend," Lennie said. Both of them knew what that meant. Thankfully, Ed had his coat and keys in hand and the two of them left.

Joe closed the door, disgusted. "Why'd you let him off the hook?"

"Because," Lennie said, "I know how stubborn he can be. You knew his old man. Wouldn't you say that's a 'like-father-like-son' trait? That, and I happen to know there was a date for three last night. I'll talk to Danielle if you talk to Alex," he said. "There's no way this went unnoticed."

-----------------

"Have you noticed," Mr. Hans said as he and Jack walked to the bodega, "that the only reason Greer hates me is because she loves me?"

Jack chuckled. "Really? I feel privileged to see this courtship in progress."

"Yes, we don't want to rush into things; we need time like most mature adults do." Merle stopped. "What about you and your lady friend? I trust you two keep it respectable? Ah, you must, because I didn't hear any yelling, banging or thumping on the wall like the last kids there."

Jack nodded. "Of course, we wouldn't have it any other way. As for marriage, though… I don't know whether or not either one of us would take it that far."

"You better hurry up, boy; you're running out of time."

"What was that remark you made about 'mature adults', Merle? If I thought there was any joy to treasure in marrying Danielle, I'd have asked her a long time ago."

Merle clicked his tongue. "Seems to me, the way you two are, you've already been married a long time."

Jack smiled. "We were paid for the arguments we had. That's the thing about adversarial law."

Both of them made their separate purchases before continuing on their walk. At this time of day, it was mostly the regulars who were out and about. Louise Winslow waved from her balcony, all seven of her cats about her feet. Spencer Collins tipped his baseball cap as he ran for the bus stop, the bus now only a stop behind them. Meagan Marroni handed Mr. Hans a single carnation just as she had always done each time they passed.

"You should get one for your lady friend," Merle suggested. "Little tokens could be worth a lot."

Jack shrugged. "Maybe. However, I don't see her as frequently as you see yours."

Merle gave him a disapproving look, but let the excuse slide for now. "So, I see two more of your friends drop by to give you grief," he said. "Didn't you tell them that I gave you an extra lock to be safe?"

"Yes," Jack said. "But, you know how overprotective some friends are. In regards to those two, it's in their nature."

"I'm sure, right now, they are plotting to move you elsewhere."

"No, they're just trying to keep me out of a cemetery plot," Jack said. "They both work in homicide at the 2-7."

"Ah," Merle said. "I know a Joey who works at the 2-7." He laughed. "There's no way I could see him in the Bronx, that boy."

Jack almost ventured to ask, then decided against it. True, it was a small world, but he doubted it was that small. Knowing his luck, Joe would have probably known about Jack's father, if fate was against him. No, the world couldn't be that small. Not in New York.

--------------

"Man, we gotta get him outta there," Ed said handing Mike a cup of coffee then sat down with a file of his own. "I don't care if both of his neighbors gave him an extra lock – each; I don't like him being there."

"That's the story?" Mike sounded disappointed. "So much for that plan."

Ed continued. "It seems Mr. Hans and Mrs. Richter both believed they had the better secondary lock and for the longest time refused to let Jack use 'the other person's' lock. So, Jack and the Super installed both of them rather than hear the bickering continue."

Mike laughed. "Now, that's funny."

"What's funny?" Fontana asked.

"Jack and the locks," Ed said.

Joe shook his head, deciding not to ask. "Hey, has Alex stopped by yet?"

"She'll be here in a moment," Cassady said as she hung her coat up. "How are you guys doing with the Mullaly case?"

"No better than you guys and the Wechsler case, I'm sure," Logan said. "If Hard Focus is what people call riveting programming, I'm thankful for cable."

"May I never see another arson case too soon," Cassady lamented before leaving the guys.

Ed nodded his head in her direction. "That tough of a break, Joe?"

"I don't blame her. I think I'm getting my full of fire cases, too." He saw who he was after. "Alex, I've a question for you, if you've got a moment."

--

"I don't know, Joe. He tried telling me it was the flu. It must have been a twenty-four hour bug if he made it in time to play with you boys." Alex twisted her glove in her hands. "I know he lied. But, if he doesn't want to talk about something, he won't; and I'm not going to 'tell' on him if I don't know what it is."

Joe pushed forward, "So, you didn't see anyone at the restaurant that night, either before, during or after Jack's-."

"No, I didn't. I thought he was just fed up with the grief Danielle and I were giving him. I've Mr. Keagan's face memorized and I know I didn't see him about."

Joe shook his head. "So, no one unusual or seemingly familiar following you or Jack that you can tell."

Alex sighed, exasperated. "Believe me, Joe, if there's anything I learned about the L-12 case it's how to be hypersensitive to who may or may not be following me." Alex paused. "So, do you really think it's Keagan?"

"I intend to find out," he said.

--------

Joe Fontana sat outside of the laundry mat and watched the dolt inside. On the positive side, it was as far removed from the Bronx as possible. On the negative side, it wasn't far enough for Joe.

Seeing his chance, Joe got out of the car and approached the scrawny guy with the annoying voice and idiotic twitch. Mustering a Stallone accent, Joe yelled, "Yo, Adrian!"

"Look, that ain't-." The guy stopped once he saw who it was. "I've nothing to say to you."

"Sure you do, Keagan. I've yet to hear how you helped yourself to the stationary you used to fabricate that load of crap at the trial. I've yet to hear how you are absolutely innocent even as your victim has a restraining order against you, and, oh yeah, why a scum like you thinks you could possibly ever present yourself as a clean-cut kinda guy no matter how many times you launder your clothes."

Keagan chortled. "You don't have a real case to work on?" He put up a false bravado. "As for Jackie and me, we broke it off long ago."

Joe gave him his best, insincere smile. "You go anywhere near 'Jackie' and I can guarantee you that something will be broken - permanently, perhaps."

"Ooh, is this called police brutality?" Keagan said. "I think I'll take up badge collecting."

Joe took a few steps closer, stopping shy of toes touching. He leaned forward, towering over the cocky creep. "I think you'll take the…friendly advice and remember who will be watching you."

Keagan shook his head. "Fine, keep your eye on me. I know I'm irresistible. Of course, since you're so quick to accuse me of doing something wrong while I'm doing nothing, then that means you're missing someone who is."

---------

Danielle Melnick glared at the man across the table. "Damn Jack."

Lennie took a drink from his club soda, bracing himself for the rest of the introduction to the upcoming storm. Nailing down the information about the escorting to and from the restaurant was the first victory point Lennie took with him. Sparing Danielle the pathetic excuse Jack offered was the second point, for now.

"I knew he was holding something back that night and I let him get away with it." She recalled the events of the evening. "I knew I shouldn't have left him out of our sight, but what can you do? The place was packed that night, so… He lied through his teeth when… I let him get away with it," she said again.

"Hey, I did, too," Lennie said, "and that was with a couple of buddies who would have gladly helped me wrestle it out of him." He ordered another drink for the both of them. "So, you didn't see anyone kind of keeping an eye on you guys or anyone following you in or out of the place that night?"

"No. I was just thankful to get him to eat a real meal for a change." Danielle bit the inside of her cheek. "Here's what we're going to do, Lennie. We are dragging him down the 2-7 and not letting him go until he describes this last guy, even if we have to put him under hypnosis to do it."

Lennie shook his head. "I doubt the I.D. would be admissible if we did it that way. However, the hypnosis idea could work." In all honesty, he knew it wouldn't. If Jack was anything like him, and Lennie thought so, there was maybe a snowball's chance in Hades that Jack would close his eyes long enough to start. "Who do you want to approach, Skoda or Olivet?"

Danielle eyed him skeptically. "Could I trust you to play nice if I said Olivet?"

Lennie feigned offense. "I always play well with others. Liz could be helpful here. It might be better if you called her, just in case."

Danielle smiled, relieved considering how this lunch had started. "I will. And I'm also having dinner with Jack tonight."

Lennie thought about asking for minor details, such as whether or not Danielle knew Jack would be working tonight then changed his mind. Worse case scenario would find Lennie stopping by checking into a lovers' quarrel. "Does he know that?"

"No." She took care of the bill. "You're not warning him, either, Lennie."

Lennie shook his head, glad that he wasn't going to be in his friend's shoes tonight.


	3. Hold

Chapter 3 – Hold

Jack moaned as he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. A migraine was threatening to take hold and he would have preferred that over the double-whammy he was dealt with at day's end. Discussing medical physics with Patel at the center seemed to make more sense than the nonsense Danielle spewed about during dinner. He wasn't certain if he could make it through dessert.

"I'll never forgive you for this, Danielle," he said still leaning forward. "What you did was lower than low. It was… Heaven's Gate."

"You mean, for heaven's sake."

Jack shook his head slowly. "I meant what I said. "What made you think that I'd allow _anyone_ let alone _Liz_ to try and hypnotize me?"

Danielle threw a pillow at him that he instinctively moved away from. "Then tell me what I need to know! What does the guy look like, Jack? Is he tall or short? Big guy, little guy? Guy who talks a lot? Dark hair? Light hair? What?!"

"How many times do I have to say this? It isn't going to work. Can we put this argument to bed already? If so, I'm only two steps behind it." As much as he wished for company to mix up the quiet nights, he wanted then and there to take that wish back.

Danielle shook him by the shoulders. In stubborn response, Jack went limp like a rag doll. "Why are you making this so hard? Why are you holding back on this one tormentor?"

Jack straightened up and looked up at her incredulously. "Who's doing the tormenting here, may I ask? I don't recall asking that my every single step be watched by my friends! I don't recall getting cornered in not one, not two, but three different houses – house arrest, that's what that is – and told I didn't get to leave until I gave the secret password!"

"Fine, just be the obstinate fool you've always been. Keep in mind that I don't trust you right now." She let go of him, went to the kitchen and returned to hand him a piece of cake on a small plate. "Triple chocolate. Enjoy."

He studied it a moment. "How do I know you didn't put razor blades in it?"

Danielle groaned. "Do you see that _whole_ cake there? Why would I put razor blades in it?"

Jack leaned forward and looked at the small store-bought two-serving cake. "Because you couldn't fit a hacksaw in it, that's why." He made a show of dissecting the layers and examining each bite before he ate it. "Danielle, if there's anyone to worry about it's-."

"Don't start, Jack!"

"Bruner," he finished. "Do you know how many young women have disappeared lately?"

"Do you?" she challenged.

Jack shook his head. "And that's the problem. Somehow, I doubt we're lucky enough that he was gunned down in a drive-by shooting or something."

"So I'm only worrying about imaginary monsters that go bump in the night, is that what you're telling me?"

"Yes." He set down the unfinished dessert. "Danielle, are you going to understand that I've actually made a new life for myself and kind of like it, despite how much you and some others are holding out for me to 'return' to something? Erin's accepted it; why can't you?"

"Erin's out of state; she doesn't count."

"I say otherwise. You keep bullying me like this and I'm likely to go join her, too." He saw the annoyed look in her eyes. "I mean it, Danielle," he said, refusing to step down. "What do you want from me that I could actually give you, huh?"

She stared at him. "You know exactly what."

"Take the couch," he said. Without another word, he went to bed.

-----------------

Jack sat in the chair across from Emil Skoda. All in all, the doctor was impressed with how far his patient had come since their first official visit so long ago. The other man appeared calm, relaxed, and more importantly, focused.

"I wasn't certain if you wanted these meetings to resume," Skoda said. "I'll admit, part of me wondered if you decided to see Dr. Olivet instead."

Jack smiled. "No. If there are any future plans to see Liz, it would be in that capacity – personal, not patient. I'd have come in sooner, but…"

"Tell me about your new life."

"It's nice. It's far removed from law and I've a great family of friends."

"Friends who don't remind you or hover over you about the past?"

"Friends who don't know anything about that part of the past," he said.

Skoda nodded. "That's good. Tell me, how are you sleeping?"

"Do you mean am I having nightmares? Sometimes, I hear the screams. Do I daydream?" Jack paused. "Sometimes, I wonder if someone in the distance is, or could be…" Jack shook it off. "It's residual stress isn't it?"

Skoda reminded him, "You have been through a traumatic experience. It isn't right or fair to say that someone will 'get over it.' That and you've a legitimate concern – three of your captors are still out there. How do you feel about that?"

Jack looked him in the eye and said, "That's the truth, as it stands now. One person I could try to keep at a distance, legally. The other two, I've accepted I've no control over that unless I was able to turn them in to the police."

Skoda's face remained neutral. "Do you feel resentment for how the law has failed you?"

"They didn't" Jack said. "They have all the details they need; it's just going to be a matter of time before…"

"Are you sure about that?" Skoda pressed. Instinct told him that Jack still held back information about one of them.

Jack leaned forward, fingertips touching in front of him as if his hands were positioned for prayer. "That year has changed me, Dr. Skoda. It doesn't have as much of a hold on me, however."

----------------------

Benji tried the problem again with Patel guiding him though it. Jack watched them a moment before turning his attention back to Dennis Zamora, the supervisor. "Patel's ready for the fifth level textbook. Katya wants to know if she could get another copy of the workbook. And Cam wants to help at the refreshment stand at the carnival."

Dennis made some notes. "Sounds good. I have to admit, Jack, it's been great having you here, in case I haven't told you that already."

"It's definitely been an experience, that's for sure."

"So, how many languages are you trying to pick up right now?"

He had to think about it. "I'm at three or four, I believe. Russian's the worst of the collection right now. I've a better appreciation of what some of the folks here have invested to make their lives better."

Dennis closed the binder and leaned back. "Would you say your life's gotten better since the move?"

"I do," he said confidently. "Some friends think otherwise, but… Let me ask you something. There are some acquaintances who wanted to know what they could contribute for the carnival. Any suggestions to take back to them?"

"If I just said money, is that a bit blatant?" They both nodded. "Seriously? Why not give them these checklists and let them decide what they feel comfortable with. If they just came as they were, that would be perfect, too."

"All right." Jack pocketed the slips as he got up. "From one meeting to another." He smiled, 'You guys should call this 'Marathon Meeting Monday' you know."

"We do," Dennis said. "Wait 'til we gear up for Triathlon Thursdays."

"Can't wait," he said then left for the next meeting.

Sylvia Huntington was down the hall still setting up the table. "Need a hand?" Jack asked as he grabbed a collection of notebooks from Sylvia's rolling cart.

"Thanks. I know I'm forgetting something, but I don't know what. It'll drive me nuts all night, I know it."

Having quickly dealt the notebooks, Jack reached under the podium to grab a smaller box. "Are you thinking of the homework reminders here?" he asked holding up a couple of agenda books.

"That's where I put them! You're a lifesaver!"

The table set, Sylvia and Jack sat down at the far end at the corner, her at the head of the table, he to her left.

"How many students do we have?" he asked, previewing the papers.

"Which numbers do you want? Regulars or radicals?"

Jack shook his head. "I haven't mastered abstract or linear algebra yet, Sylvia."'

"Cute. Regular numbers are lower than they could be. The question becomes: how do we rope in the erratic ones without necessarily bribing them?"

"Try a lasso," Spencer Collins said as he took a seat across from Jack. Setting his messenger bag on the table, he said, "Long time no see, Jack."

"Train for track today?" he asked.

Spencer put his baseball cap on the knob on the back of his chair. "Nah. Had plenty of time to spare this morning."

Neither man addressed the track reference but once – when Sylvia had called Spencer the next Carl Lewis. From that point on, it was more of an inside joke. However, in some ways, the man did remind Jack of Ed Green. Given a fifty-yard dash between the two, Jack was certain he'd have no idea who'd win.

"So, attendance is the first item on the agenda we're discussing, eh?" Spencer asked.

"If our absent ones are our usual strugglers, then, yes we are," Sylvia said. It was another five minutes later until all the attendees made it and another ninety before the meeting ended.

--

Spencer and Jack walked together towards their respected buildings discussing meetings in general before detouring to sports. By the time they finished basketball and had moved on to baseball, Spencer slowed the pace a bit.

"When we turn the corner, see if that guy across the street does the same thing," Spencer said.

Jack did so, chilled by more than the cold air as he did so. "How long has he been-?"

"I'd say maybe from Chicago Bulls to Cincinnati Reds." They resumed their casual pace. "What do you say we go a few blocks further. The 3-9 isn't that far and I'd rather be paranoid than paralyzed."

"Agreed," Jack said.

They entered the precinct and approached the officer on duty. "What can I do for you?" she asked

"We're just-," Spencer started then turned expectantly to Jack.

"We wanted to let you know that there's a fellow outside who has never been seen in the neighborhood before. Given what happened over on Washington Avenue a couple of nights ago, we figured one couldn't be too careful, right?" Jack gave a description of the guy. When he finished, Spencer nodded in agreement.

"Anything else, sirs?" the officer asked.

Jack shook his head. "You've been most helpful."

"To be safe, sirs, use the side door over there."

Two alley blocks later, Spencer said something. "What are the odds that we've just set up some poor innocent guy just now?"

"Isn't it better to err on the side of caution?" Jack felt uneasy about the whole thing "If he doesn't have my home address or yours, we should be fine."

"If? Jack, scary looking stalkers come in all sorts of styles these days. How safe is anybody anymore, really?'

Jack shrugged. "I trust the police, don't you?"

-----------------

"I don't trust you, John," Olivia Benson said while holding back a folder. "How do I know you're not going to create some sort of way-off theory out of this or something? Or worse, this becomes your obsession?"

"Liv, give me the file, already!" He took it out of her hand then went to his desk. When he finally got a hold of the trial information via Novak, John couldn't shake the awful feeling he was having. There had been another stalking case eerily similar to what was presented at the Keagan trial. John didn't see it then because the pattern hadn't existed until recently.

The criminal check on the guy only came up with the minor charges. However, no one had thought to look at previous cases for a possible pattern. "How thorough was the background check on Keagan?" John asked.

"Thorough enough to give us what we got. Why?" Olivia asked.

"I don't know. It's just that…" He found it at last. "That's it!"

"What is?" Olivia said, now standing beside him to look. "John, I'm not seeing-."

He pointed at a name and address. "What do these people have in common?" Olivia shook her head. "Look at the name of the printing company. That whole bit about the stationary Keagan had with McCoy's name on it – you know the guy would have had to sign in at the check-in point if he stole it from McCoy's office, right? There was no sign of that.

"The only other way Keagan could have gotten a hold of that stationary is if he was at the original source. These three women had orders placed there, too. No one thought about that because we're talking about three different print jobs, two of them a one-time only order, different times and different staff."

"You just shot your theory, John," Olivia said. "If the staff changed, then that means-."

John shook his head. "Work with me, here. What if the owner had to hire temporary help from time to time and on occasion paid the temps under the table?"

"Still with you," she said.

"What if Adrian Keagan was never on the books to begin with?"

------

Nathan Wallace finished unpacking the last of the inventory before he left the work room, putting the assistant in charge. "Yeah," he said, closing the office door behind him then gesturing his guests to sit down, "Rian hung around here once in a while. I couldn't exactly kick him out, you see."

"And why was that?" Munch asked while fiddling with a brochure.

"Well, he's my kid brother and all."

Benson wrote that item down. "He didn't list any relatives and you guys have different-."

"Well," Nathan explained, "our stepfather saw fit to adopt all but the youngest. See, it wasn't a secret from the family that Rian was illegitimate, belonging to neither father. But, I had to look out for him just the same."

"I'm sure he had a difficult time dealing with that," Munch said noting there was next to no resemblance between the man before him and the criminal on the loose. "To be disowned by one father, not adopted by the other must have created some serious issues for him. So, who was the real one responsible?"

"I don't know and I never did speculate. What's the point? The kid needed to stay out of trouble and once in a while wandered in here to lend a hand, sorta. I'd a caught heck if I cut him loose. It wasn't like anything went missing or anything when he was around. But, man…"

"What?" Benson asked.

Nathan shook his head. "How to I describe Rian? He's just…weird. One minute, you think he's there, the next, you're sure you imagined it." Nathan shook his head again. "He gave a lot of my staff the heebie-jeebies. Last time I saw him was a couple of years back. He came in one day when I couldn't afford him to be here, left like maybe fifteen minutes later. Then he shows up again a few days later, same thing."

"And you say nothing was stolen?" Benson repeated.

"No. Nothing. Inventory came in and went as it should. Like I said, he's just weird."

Munch nodded. "Hey, if I wanted to put an order in for some personalized stationary to use at work, how does the turnaround time look for that?"

Nathan got up to grab a calendar from off a file cabinet. "You have an order with us already?"

"No."

"About seven business days counting design, setup, etc."

Munch nodded again. "What if I already had an account with you, a previous order to reprint?"

"Four days." He took out an order form. "Are you interested?"

"Give me a couple of days to look over this," Munch said. "Oh, and how is it usually delivered?"

Nathan gave him a 'that-should-be-obvious' look. "If you're here in town, messenger or regular postal service, it depends on what you want."

"Thanks, again," Munch said as he and Benson took their leave.

"Care to explain any of that, John?" Olivia said as they got in the car, her turn to drive.

John smiled, satisfied. "Keagan timed his visit to alter that order and pick up the extras before anyone noticed. I'm sure of it."

------------------

"I'm sure," Elizabeth Olivet said as she took the proffered cup of tea.

Jack sat down in the chair next to the couch. "I mean it, Liz, if everything isn't all right-."

"I said I'm sure, Jack, now drop it." She leaned forward, elbows propped on her knees as Jack leaned back and away from her.

"You're sure, seriously," he said, concern on his face. "We're all right, you and I? What happened-?"

Liz put on her best poker face. "If you ask me that question one more time, I'll have you diagnosed as OCD, do you hear me?" His face went from concern to stricken. "I'm kidding, Jack." She put a hand first up to her mouth then to his knee. "Oh, my goodness, Jack, I'm kidding!"

He looked down, then about the room before forcing himself to look her in the eye. "I- You-…" He took a deep breath and held it a moment. "Do you have plans for this Saturday?"

Liz wasn't going to push it, not now, not tonight. If it took him this long to accept her apology – and she was pretty certain he didn't based on his argument that she didn't owe him one – she wasn't going to drag the evening out into further agony. "Not that I know of, why?"

"How do you feel about going to a carnival with me?"

Officially, they hadn't done anything together, let alone really spoke together since his first month at-. She decided quickly. "Sure, but you'll need to guarantee finding an adorable person to take along for us to justify being there in the first place, don't you think?"

"I'm sure Merle won't mind."

"Mer-?" Liz cracked up laughing. "Mr. Hans? Your neighbor who told me to slap you for being a, let's see if I get this right… A 'two-timing-Benedick-Don Juan DeMarco-Cassanova' of a gentleman.' End quote."

Jack rubbed his eyes with one hand while Liz held the other and patted it. "Oh, I'm sure he'd love to chaperone us, Jack. Want me to go ask him?"

"No. No, that's…" When he moved his hand away from his face, she saw tears streaming down. In all the time she had known him, she couldn't recall ever seeing him…laugh so hard so silently.

"Yeah," she said, playing this card for all it was worth, "I wouldn't be surprised if Mrs. Richter would want to come along, too."

"Even though she called you a Jezebel?" Jack said.

Liz feigned injury. "Even though. So, we'd have a double date to a carnival and I'm sure that certain people in our circle of acquaintances would want in on the fun. I could just see Lennie now, speaking in a variety of different voices and maybe winning a few marionettes here and there. Maybe, knowing our luck, the evening would end with me as Mr. Hans' partner and you as Mrs. Richter's. Yeah, that would be quite a Saturday night."

By the time she had finished, they fell against each other, laughing hysterically.

"Stop it! You're killing me, Liz!"

"Well, we can't have that. " She put her arms around him and he responded by holding on. Liz kissed him on top of the head. "It's good to have you back."

He kissed the back of her arm. "It's good to have friends to hold on to."

"We'll do whatever it takes to remind you that you're sa-."

Jack sat up, patting her arm. "I'm making that a point to remember," he said, "every day."

Unlike Danielle, Liz insisted on going home to sleep in her own bed. Jack walked her out to her car where they exchanged one more, platonic kiss. He waited until her car rounded the corner before turning to go inside.

A shiver went down his spine. Looking over his left shoulder, he saw the same figure that followed Spencer and him earlier. Narrowing his eyes, Jack could barely make out additional features. Walking backwards up the stairs, he kept his eyes focused on the now silhouette only to lose it once a passing bus sped by.

He would hold on to reality this time, he promised himself. Once back inside his apartment, he locked the door then went to sleep on the couch.


	4. Hopeful

Chapter 4 -Hopeful

"Wish me luck, gents," Spencer said as he straightened his tie for the umpteenth time.

Meagan wove between the thin crowd of passersby and tucked a carnation into his lapel. "You'll do just fine," she said brushing something off his jacket.

"Not if he tightens that noose one more time," Merle said. "Why should you worry about those idiots at that fancy office? They don't deserve you."

Jack held a hand up – in part to silence Merle, in part to relax Spencer. "You'll do fine with the interview. Mr. Robinette will probably ask you about your education, what experience you have and can bring to the company, etc. You know those answers, Spencer. I don't see why you won't get the internship."

"What about the trick questions, huh?" he laughed uneasily. "Should I worry about a polygraph?"

Jack chuckled. "All right. One potential question might be 'How do you see yourself?' I'm not going to tell you how to answer that, but he might ask it."

Spencer thought about it, understanding Jack's meaning. "Hmm. That doesn't usually come up in any other profession."

"It shouldn't have to come up in any profession," Meagan said knowingly before returning to her booth. "You'll get the job. I know it."

Spencer gave a curt nod as he boarded the bus. "Summary at seven," he told Jack as the doors closed.

Jack stopped at the flower booth to buy a few roses. Merle looked on, clicking his tongue. "One for each lady friend, is that it? What are you now, a 'Sweet William' or something?"

"Merle, allow me to explain." He held out two red roses. "These are tokens of apology because my lady friends are under the impression that neither you nor Mrs. Richter approve of them. The others are for some friends I'm meeting later."

Meagan smiled at Jack then turned on Merle. "And here he is, Mr. Hans, apologizing when it should be _you_ doing that. Don't you feel ashamed of yourself? Mr. McCoy is a gentleman, and that's all there is to it."

"Thank you, Ms. Marroni," Jack said bowing to her slightly, "for coming to my defense."

She waved him off. "Eh, don't worry, Mac. I've my own favor to ask ya, if that's all right."

"Ah-ha!" Merle said, stepping back and pointing accusingly at them. "I knew it! You children have no shame!" With mock indignation, Merle continued with his walk, fast enough to make a point, but slow enough to let Jack know he expected the younger man to catch up at some point. Jack and Meagan shook their heads.

"I just wanted to know, if it should ever come up, not saying it should, but if it did, would it be all right for me to drop off the children at your place, possibly unexpected?"

Jack smiled. "Anytime. All you have to do is knock three times on the ceiling."

Meagan's shoulders fell with relief. "You're a godsend! I'd take them upstairs to the Castors, but the last time Trisha and Trevor played with the kids, they came home bruised."

"What did the parents have to say?"

"Nothing. I'm not going to start trouble. I just want to avoid it." She briefly held Jack's hand. "It won't be a problem, honestly?"

He squeezed her hand in return. "Anytime. You know my schedule."

----------

"Sorry I'm late," Anita Van Buren said as she took a seat beside Lennie at the bar. "You ever have one of those marathon days?"

"Once, a long, long time ago in a lifetime far, far away," Lennie said. "Don't worry, Jack and I've kept ourselves busy."

"It's more like he's been busy with some razzle-dazzle moves at the pool table," Jack said.

"Hey," Lennie said defensively, "how many guys did you fleece at the dart board?"

Jack smiled mischievously. "I learned to balance my games out. Think they'll ban you from here for life." Turning to Anita, he said, "Anyways, we've more than enough to treat you to anything you wish from the menu today."

They found an unoccupied booth, Lennie on one side, Anita and Jack on the other. Jack handed her some roses.

"What's this?" Lennie said. "You don't bring me flowers anymore."

"Well, you did hustle me out of quite a bit of money last week," Jack retorted. "Anita, this is a very belated 'thank you' for everything you've done," Jack said.

Anita inhaled the scent then smiled. "They're wonderful, Jack. Thank you."

"That leaves you two roses, yet," Lennie said.

"I plan on delivering them after we're done here."

"So, how is life without law, Jack?" Anita asked, setting the flowers to the side.

Jack nodded. "It's nice. Hopefully, others will see that soon enough and get off my back about it."

Lennie waved a hand. "If there's anyone you need me to, eh-hem, persuade, I'll pitch in."

"Only if you want to bring a few extra helping hands to the carnival." Pointing at Lennie, Jack said to Anita, "This guy's under the impression that he could talk someone into being his partner between two offices if you will. Do you know anything about that?"

"I know enough to never even give him that kind of hint, unless it was to plead with someone to keep him out of trouble," she said. Pretending she was whispering in his ear, yet loud enough for the other man to hear, she added, "How much is it worth to you to help out society?"

"I remember where you and Don live, Lieu."

Anita smiled. "I'm not your lieu anymore." Turning on Jack, she asked, "And what's this I'm hearing that you're staying in the Bronx?"

Jack shook his head. 'I should have been charging a nickel every time someone asked me that. Then I'd have the next month's rent by now."

Anita elbowed him. "I'm kidding, although, I wouldn't mind seeing the place, if you're up to it. Don and I will bring the kids on Saturday. We could stand a day of fun."

------------------------

The area came alive with activity as many families and business owners gathered in the park and the usually empty vacant lot. The cheers and laughter from the children were music to the ears of most of the bone-weary adults who had a chance to enjoy this festive moment.

Jack saw and greeted some acquaintances that he invited then returned to the booth he volunteered at with Sylvia. Once in a while, one of the many in his former circle had dropped by to lend a hand. It was late afternoon before Jack allowed himself to be pulled away to catch his breath.

"I can see why you like it here," Liz said, "despite what your critics say."

Jack nodded. "So, do you think I'm still running an 'avoidance game' from whatever my critics say?"

Liz looked at him. "Let me think about that a bit more." She expected a look of disappointment or annoyance from him. Instead, she saw shock.

"What is it, Jack?"

"Nothing," he said as he was about to cross the street. Spencer intercepted him and led him to the refreshment stand.

"You see him?" Spencer asked, stepping in between Jack and his intended target.

Jack said yes. "I'm going to talk to him." Elizabeth looked on with utter confusion.

Spencer shook his head "I already got a hold of Detective…Green is it? I don't think I saw a guy take off so fast. Something about finding Joe?"

Jack took that in. Rumor from the 3-9 was that they were tired of getting 'check-in' calls from some 'jerk named Joe' at the 2-7. "How bold do you feel?"

"There's the bold and the foolhardy." After a beat, Spencer leaned forward and said, "For the record, I'm 'Bold,' so that makes you-."

"Everyday," Jack said. Both men turned to cross the street with Elizabeth a few paces behind. Ed Green snuck up behind them, putting a hand on Jack's shoulder, pulling him back.

A police cruiser pulled up and a couple of officers exited. Fontana walked up on the other side of the individual. "Hate it when he's right," Green said. "I was hoping he was joking when he said-." Ed dismissed it. "Well, that's one dolt on his way behind bars."

Jack nodded in agreement. However, as he watched Keagan argue with the officers, one of whom was arguing with Fontana, something told Jack that the victory would be short-lived.

-----------

"I can sleep peacefully tonight, how about you?" Danielle asked.

"Sure," Jack said. "Thank you for sparing me the 'I-told-you-so' speech."

Danielle ignored him. "I told you so. If you turned him in when you first saw him then-."

"Maybe I should change the locks," he said. "Of course, that won't solve the problem entirely…"

"I know," Danielle said. "That's why I've been looking at apartments in-."

"Because you'd find a way to get to me anyway," he deadpanned. "Maybe I'll listen to Erin's offer. It would be odd, asking for support from one's child."

Danielle looked at him, uncertain. "You better be joking."

Jack picked up the dishes to return them to the kitchen, leaving Danielle on the couch. From there, Jack offered his argument. "Erin's found some places I could work at, not too far from her house, on her way to work. It would be fun to share a commute with her. Granted, I don't know if I really want to leave here."

"What do you have here, seriously, Jack? The kids upstairs are loud and obnoxious. The neighbors on either side of you bicker back and forth. And what are you going to do about the pounding on your floor from down below? I swear; do you ever sleep with all this noise?"

"I happen to like this particular composition, even if you don't. It's a community thing. As for the so-called pounding of the floor-." He turned to look at her. "Was that just now?"

"Yes. Why?"

Jack crossed through the living room just as someone knocked on the door once. "Meagan," he said, holding the door open. "What's wrong?"

"I-, I'm so sorry, Jack. I- I- have to-. Do you mind?"

"I meant what I said," he told her, taking a sleeping Trisha off her hands. He took Trevor's hand and led him to the armchair. "Is there anything-?"

Meagan shook her head. It was then Danielle commented on her dress. "Dear, you're going to catch your death of cold like that."

"Death of cold versus bailing my cousin out of jail… I doubt I'll be arrested for this. The bus will be here any-." She turned to run down the stairs."

Danielle grabbed her coat and purse. "This is nonsense, Jack," she said. "Meagan, wait up!"

Alone with the children, Jack secured all of the locks before addressing Trevor. "Are you awake enough for me to tuck you two into bed?"

Groggily, Trevor nodded, taking Jack's hand. The second-grader looked down at his slippers as they walked and said, "Uncle Perry's gonna get it, isn't he?"

"Maybe," Jack said, laying the preschooler down as Trevor climbed in. "Your mother will take care of it, don't worry."

"I don't." Trevor pulled the covers up to his chin. "Mom says if I worry now, I'll just get gray hairs like you and her."

Jack smiled. "She's right. You're not allowed to start that early, do you hear me?" He looked around the small room. "Do you want a night light or the door opened a bit?"

"Nope," Trevor said, before turning over and falling asleep. Jack ruffled the boy's hair. He decided to plug in a nightlight, all the better to not risk waking them up with the lamp from the other room.

----

Jack was half-asleep in the armchair when there was a faint knock at the door. Glancing at the clock, it was later than he thought, much later if Meagan and Danielle were simply bailing Perry out. It wouldn't surprise him if the trio wasn't on there way to night court to settle it quickly, if that was possible. Knowing Danielle, she'd make it so.

He went to the door, checking to see who it was. No one was there. No sooner had he returned to the armchair, the knocking repeated. He checked again and still saw no one. Cautiously, he opened the door, thinking perhaps it was one of the children from upstairs.

Jack's temperature dropped not due to the cold wind blowing from the entryway steps, but from whom he saw standing in the corner.

"You're…." Jack felt his heart race as he struggled not to go numb. "No." He shook his head as he repeated, "No, no, no, no, no."

With shaky hands, he closed the door as quietly as he could, turning the locks as quickly as he could.

"Uncle Mac?"

Jack ran a hand over his face, trying his best to clear his mind and expression of the terror he felt. "Yes, Trisha?"

"Can I have a glass of water?"

"Sure, dear," he said, and then went into the kitchen to get it for her.

She sipped it, mimicking her kitten as she did so. "Was that Mommy?"

Jack shook his head. "No, Trisha. No one was at the door."

"It might have been Casper," she said wisely.

"It might have been," he agreed. "Now, back to bed, all right?"

She tiptoed to the counter and reached up for the sink, dropping the tumbler in. Just as carefully, she tiptoed back and began tapping him on the arm. "Uncle Mac?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you all right?"

He smiled. "Yes, Trisha. I'm all right."

Not accepting his answer, she stood up on the chair and leaned close to his face until their noses touched, staring him in the eyes. After a while she nodded. "All right. Night."

Jack watched as she scurried to the room, closing the door behind her. "Somehow," he whispered to himself, "I doubt it will be all right."

---------

"I'm sorry," Nina Cassady said to her partner. She hadn't expected him to come in such a foul mood first thing in the morning.

"It wasn't your fault," Fontana said. "It's that good-for-nothing-. It wasn't your fault. I don't know how to tell Jack the bad news. I'd call him, but…"

"You can't," Ed said handing some messages to Nina. "He doesn't have a phone that I know of."

Nina looked at him surprised. "He knows it's the twenty-first century, right? Does he at least have a cell phone?"

Ed shook his head. "See, no phone, no listing. No listing, no easy access from Keagan and company."

"That didn't stop him Saturday," Joe said, replacing a broken pencil for a different one. "Did you hear? The 3-9 released him because it was Keagan's right to attend a festival open to the public. Don't know what their problem is, really."

"I'm sure Jack would have let us know if he's seen Keagan since," Ed told him, trying to sound reassuring. If anything, Nina heard the doubt in his voice as clearly as she heard the anger in Joe's.

"Want me to call in some favors to have someone tail him?" Nina asked.

Fontana shook his head. "I drove by Keagan's place when I first heard and he's not there. He hasn't been there for a couple of days now." He broke another pencil. "I don't like that one bit."

"He'll turn up," Green said. "In the meantime, someone called about your case. Why it was forwarded to my desk, I don't know, but here." Green returned to his desk as Fontana tossed the papers off of his.

Nina picked them up and read them over. "Electrical wiring. That would make sense for that kind of explosion." She looked up at Joe and asked, "Do we know about the wiring of that warehouse? I mean, is it possible that Drake knew his way around electronics to set it up so easily, fuse and all?"

"Why are you asking me?" Fontana snapped. "That case is old, officially closed, thoroughly ignored!"

Nina made a note of it nonetheless then put the papers on the corner of Joe's desk. "Sorry I mentioned it," she said. Nina picked up the phone and made a call. "Hello, this is Nina… regarding that appointment…You don't mind? ... That's great, I mean, that works for me because…. So I'll see you then. Thanks. Bye."

"Canceling another date?" Fontana asked? "I thought you were going to improve your social life?"

"Appointments are usually made with doctors or dentists," Nina said. "Most aren't that friendly during a cancellation call."

"Right." He looked up at her as he picked up the file she returned. "Hey, I'm sorry about earlier. It's just maddening that, even with the law, we lose some."

"You've gotta have hope, Joe," she said. "We'll get the guys we're after."

---------

"Ms. Melnick is something else!" Meagan said when Jack met up with her at the flower booth.

"So, Perry isn't in as much trouble as he once was, eh?"

Meagan beamed. "No. Not only that, but Ms. Melnick convinced the judge to drop the charges. So, aside from Perry owing me serious babysitting time to compensate, all's right with the world."

"Good," he said, accepting a carnation from her. "You realize, if you keep giving away free flowers, you won't earn as much, right?"

Meagan shrugged. "I've yet to figure it out, but the books seem to come a bit over at week's end, covering the free flowers twice over. I know I'm not short-changing customers, but still."

"It could be a hopeful admirer," Jack said.

Merle elbowed him. "If it's you, boy, I'm going to have to teach you a lesson."

"If it's all the same to you," Jack said, "I can single-handedly keep track of my own love life, thank you."

Meagan leaned forward and whispered, "It's when you count lovers with both hands you know you're dead, right?"

"You're telling me," he whispered back. Louder, he said, "Didn't you say Louise's birthday is today?"

Merle nodded. "Yes it is. Meagan, I'll need to buy some flowers from you."

"There's a first for everything, Mr. Hans," she said kindheartedly. "May I recommend the Cape Primrose," she said.

"Sold," he said, making the purchase. He took the potted flower and handed it to Jack, saying, "You deliver." Meagan and Jack exchanged looks, deciding it wasn't worth arguing the point because… Jack would justify it later.

A few minutes later, he found himself looking down from the balcony, all seven cats wandering about his legs and Mr. Hans was nowhere to be seen. "He's shy," Jack said finally.

"I'm sure he is," Mrs. Winslow said. "I had a nephew like that, always talking about himself in the third person because he was shy. He's yet to grow out of it."

Jack sheepishly grinned. "Understood, Mrs. Winslow," he said, thinking of the best way to set Merle Hans up for this. "I sincerely hope you have a wonderful birthday," he said, then kissed her lightly on the cheek.

-------

"You look like you want to murder someone," Spencer said. "Need to shoot some hoops after work?"

Jack nodded. "Mrs. Winslow-."

"Oh, no! Not a nice, innocent lady like Louise!" Spencer paused then asked, "Don't tell me you were set up as another alleged suitor?" Off of Jack's look, Spencer howled with laughter. "Oh, man, I'm so sorry!"

"She's nice, so there's no reason to-."

Spencer shook his head. "No, you don't get it. She'll be expecting you to stop by regularly for teatime. There's a reason why some of us keep our feet on the ground, Mac!"

Jack shook his head. "That would have been _very_ helpful to know before this morning!"

"Oh man, Merle's gonna murder you!"

"Then you better prepare to help his representation in court," Jack countered, "because he's the one who set me up in the first place."

Spencer pretended to adjust his suit and tie. "That's easy, your honor – not guilty by reason of insanity. His neighbor drove him to it."

Jack gave him a look before leaving to help Patel with his English lesson.

Patel, a grandfatherly figure himself, gave Jack a sympathetic smile. "Don't lose heart," the former doctor said. "In time, Ms. Winslow will be a memory among the wind."


	5. Ignored

Chapter 5 - Ignored

"You could go on pretending I'm not here, if that's what you're trying to do."

Elliot Stabler looked up at his visitor, finally putting away the work he thought would act as a shield. "Look, Detective Cassady, I'm not trying to be rude, but-."

"But, you haven't answered my question. Is there anyone in your database that has extensive knowledge of electrical systems to be able to set up wiring to record and set off a massive fire?"

"We went through those files the first time and if I go through them again, I'm sure the answer would still be 'no.' So, if you don't mind-."

"I don't. At least, that's what my partner tells me on occasion." She moved some papers closer to him. "I'm trying to figure out what kind of person would be able to establish an intricate system that was hidden from his fellow captors who were equally oblivious to it. Now, I've tried some of the security companies in the area and none of them were able to help me."

Elliot sighed, admitting defeat. "Fine. The guys we had in our database were essentially computer nerds or pervs with an extensive rap filed via the computer squad. What we have are basic video tapes, meaning standard VCRs."

"Do you think it could be someone who is familiar with a security room setup? Maybe they have multiple decks or something to use." Cassady said.

"So, you're thinking extensive electronics purchases." Elliot nodded. "That's possible. But then, how is it that no one gave a description of 'a guy carrying a lot of equipment' when you guys were called to the scene?"

Nina thought about that. "If this was where Jack was kept for a year and no one stumbled on it, why would anyone notice someone with tech stuff?"

"Good point," Elliot said. "That might be something worth looking into, then. Of course, tracking down any and all VCR purchases from two or three years back at least, assuming he bought them all new won't be a picnic." He looked at Nina. "There's something else on your mind."

"I just don't think we could ignore the possibility that any of the number of young girls on your list or ours weren't put there by Bruner."

---------

"What's on your mind?" Logan asked.

"Something Jack said at the poker game. I don't know why I didn't focus on it earlier, but…" Green said as he shuffled through papers, "he mentioned family. We looked at the known five and most family members are accounted for, right?"

Logan took a folder off Green's desk. "Barnes is spoken for. Drake has a sister who's in Seattle. Marolf…Heck, everyone's keeping their distance from him."

"I wonder why," Green said sarcastically.

Mike finished the list. "Bruner's a loner and Fontana found Keagan's brother. That's it. What are you getting at?"

"I don't know. What if, all this time we're combing through files of known criminals when in fact our sixth man is a new kid on the block?" Ed tapped his pen against the lamp "What if he's some 'pillar of the community' kinda guy?"

"Ed, we arrest scum like that daily- men and women." Mike didn't want this particular headache just yet. "But, say that you're right. Where do you suggest we look, under the yellow pages for 'Scum Number Six?' That would work swell."

"What if he's closer than that?" Ed jotted down some personal notes as he continued. "What if, right now, he's so close to Jack that none of us, let alone him, sees it?"

Mike shook his head. "We got Keagan once. We'll get him again."

"I don't think Keagan's part of our main problem, though," said Ed.

---------

George Huang reread the report Munch gave him. "That would explain a lot about Adrian Keagan," Huang said. "Jack was the unfortunate winner of Mr. Keagan's displaced anger and resentment."

"To what degree, though, George?" Munch said. "There has to be a lot more anger to try and explain the assaults and the stalking behaviors, right? I mean, the guy got a kick outta taunting Fontana when he was confronted."

"That's because it isn't Fontana that Keagan's after. The confrontation he wants and craves for is with Jack. That's the last thing Jack needs right now, I think."

Munch shook his head. "Give the man some credit. He stood his ground in court and-."

"That's court, John. In court, that was once Jack's home advantage. In the community, who knows how far Keagan will go to claim the upper hand. Now…" Huang looked at the paper again. "If there's one thing about Keagan, it's that he won't be ignored for long."

-------

"I can't ignore that infernal noise much longer!" one of the neighbors said throwing a rock to the balcony.

Jack, Spencer and the others looked up at the balcony and didn't see the cats walking about, although, now straining, they could definitely hear the litter meowing.

"Maybe one of us should check in on Mrs. Winslow," Merle suggested.

"We'll go," Spencer said, volunteering Jack. "Meagan, get ready to call the police if we tell you."

The two of them went to the upper floor only to find the door unlocked. Carefully, quietly, they entered the apartment.

"Dang! How long has it been since she's changed the litter boxes?" Spencer asked, covering his nose and mouth.

Jack went to the first closed door and called out. "Mrs. Winslow? Mrs. Winslow, it's me, Jack. Are you all right?" He opened the door and nearly collapsed due to the stench. "Spence!"

Spencer called out Jack's name at the same time. "I've found-."

"Tell Meagan to call the police!" Jack said closing the door before the other man could look in. Spencer did as he was told, opening the glass door to holler down below. Jack looked into the kitchen and felt his heart sink. "Don't touch anything on the way out," Jack told Spencer.

----

"Why did we get the call?" Green asked as they pulled up to the building. He noticed Collins sitting on the stoop, his head between his knees. "This is in the 3-9's backyard."

Logan motioned him to follow. "Someone requested us – you -specifically." They entered the building and were surprised to see McCoy standing near the door. "You found the body?" Logan asked. Jack nodded.

"Bodies. Detective Green," McCoy said steadily, "you'll want to see the one in the bedroom."

Green went to investigate, with Logan close on his heels.

"Damn it."

"What is it?" Logan asked. "Don't tell me you've seen this before."

Green nodded. "When we had the earlier pictures from Bruner's other two victims – one was in our jurisdiction at least. They looked just like this." He rose, slapping his knee in disgust. To the M.E., he asked, "Do you have an approximate time of death?"

"Night before last," the M.E. said. "This one was knocked unconscious before your killer went after the older woman. She was stabbed in the chest with an ice pick, no prints on the handle or anything. This one put up a fight when she came to, but… I'll give you more details once we-."

"Got it," Green said.

"What were their names?" Logan asked.

Green read from an envelope address. "Louise Winslow and -."

"Lois Winslow, her grandniece," Jack said, standing in the doorway of the room. "Spencer said she arrived just the other night, visiting from college."

"Jack," Logan said putting a hand on the other man's shoulder, "do you feel up to coming to our precinct to give us a report?"

McCoy nodded. "It was him, wasn't it?" His face was practically expressionless.

Logan noted the silent exchange between his partner and McCoy. "We'll get more information from the autopsy. Right now, we'll need you and Mr. Collins to come with us."

---

Van Buren listened to the conversation as they sat in her office, Mr. Collins now on his way home via another officer in her squad.

"Are you sure, Jack? I mean, if this indeed Bruner's work, then we gotta get you outta there," Mike said. "If you don't want to stay with either one of us, we could always give Lennie a call and-."

"I'm not going," he said. "Louise's death is-."

"It's not your fault," Van Buren said, fearful of how far and fast this setback could be. "You can't control where Bruner is, if it is him."

"Lieutenant, why are we kidding ourselves?" Jack asked. "We all know it was him. Detective Green confirmed it."

Anita chose to remain silent on that point. She would wait for Rodgers' report when it came. "Right now, I think it might be best if you didn't go home tonight. Don and I have room to spare and-."

"With all due respect, Anita," Jack said, "I've no intention of becoming someone's burden, or guest tonight or any other. I'm going home."

"Ignoring this won't make it go away, Jack!" said Mike. "And no number of locks will keep you completely safe, either." He continued. "Louise was stabbed in the heart with an ice pick, just like the others before her. You said that wasn't Bruner's style. That means Keagan or this other guy-."

"I told you about Keagan's killing style?" Jack asked, confused.

Mike's voice tightened. "I know what I saw on-."

Green spoke up speaking over Logan, "The testimony, Jack!"

"Right, the testimony. Look, I'm going home-."

Anita shook her head, annoyed. "Nothing against your neighbors, Jack, but… Would you humor me, please, just for tonight?"

Jack folded his hands and studied them for a moment before he got up from the chair to take a few steps towards the door. "What if I said 'no?'"

Mike stood up, also, to block his way. "Then I'd say, 'try again.' I know I'd win, too, because there are at least four of us who would drag you."

The two Irishmen stared at each other, enough anger and stubbornness to raise the temperature in her office as both of them refused to give an inch. It mesmerized Ed and amazed Anita. Focusing on the situation, Green stood up. That action alone broke the spell as the odds changed.

Bitterly, Jack sat down. "May I borrow your phone?" Jack asked Anita.

Without looking, she dialed a number then handed the receiver to him. "Go ahead," she said.

-----

Lennie Briscoe opened the door to his guests. "Just like old times, isn't it," he said as Jack was escorted in by both Mike and Ed

"Seems like it," Jack said, setting his overnight bag down on the coffee table. "Although, I don't think we annoyed as many people last time."

Ed pointed out, "I didn't carry you in this time, either."

"No, you just twisted my arm," Jack retorted.

Mike shook his head. "Hey, I think Hans und Richter could survive a night without you refereeing."

"And it isn't as if the Marronis are fending for themselves, either," Ed added. "Perry's there until the end of the week, so-."

"Fine. Let me know how you guys feel when someone decides to relocate you despite your protests." Jack sat down and began to rub his temples. "Lennie, I'm sorry for dragging you into this."

"You didn't drag me into anything, friend. You're here for a night and I don't have a date, so…." At that, he and Jack chuckled. "All right, then. Let's say we just, you know…" Both of them took a look at the younger men still in the room.

"Oh," Ed said, "you want us to take that as our cue to leave." Lennie nodded. "Well, fine, but I've got a question here, first." He stood in front of Jack and asked, "Have you seen Adrian Keagan since the last encounter?"

Jack regarded him for a moment, his face masked of any emotion, then said, "Detective, don't you think I would have told you by now if I had?"

"Uh-huh," Green said, unconvinced. "Then maybe you'd like to tell me what the little girl downstairs meant when she said you opened the door for Casper. You owe me that."

Jack shook his head. "I don't owe you anything, Detective."

Mike moved closer to Jack as well. "Sooner or later, you're going to figure out that the odds are against you in this grim situation. I won the first round. What makes you think I won't win the second?"

"What makes you think I'm going to completely hand over my life to you guys? I conceded to this because…" Jack shook his head again, annoyed, agitated and angry. "Don't expect to be able to control my every move."

Logan didn't flinch. "One of us will be here to pick you up in the morning."

"Um, Mike," Lennie said, steering him and Green to the door, "don't make me angry. You wouldn't like it if I'm angry." Jack bit back his laughter as Mike and Ed tried to protest, even as the door was closed in their faces.

"Kids," Lennie said at last. "So, what do you say to a game of gin rummy?" He went into the other room to find a deck of cards along with a pad and pen. Lennie knew better than to come right out and ask if Jack wanted to talk about the murdered women. Given the earlier exchange, he wasn't certain he wanted to hear it just yet, either.

"Sure. Do you mind if I use your phone first? Regretfully, it's a long distance call." Jack took out some bills and tucked them beside the phone as a common courtesy gesture.

Lennie nodded, already making up his mind on how to put the money back in Jack's possession. For now, pride would let the money stay there. "Say hello to Erin for me."

Jack gave a weak smile of thanks before dialing.

A few minutes later, Lennie and Jack were in the middle of their gin game.

"What did Ed mean about 'Casper' earlier?" Lennie asked.

"While I was babysitting, I opened the door to find nobody there," Jack said. "Ed thinks otherwise."

Lennie took it in. "So, he's convinced you're holding something back, is that it?"

"Don't know why he'd want to think that," Jack said, laying down another card. "I know some people mean well, but…"

"It stings the independent spirit," Lennie finished for him. "I could loan you my .38 if you want, not saying I'd full-heartedly recommend it."

"What would you recommend, Lennie?" Jack asked sincerely.

Lennie thought about it for a while before he shook his head. "I'd be right beside you on the firing squad if I said." He finished his drink. "What about confronting Keagan at the police station, one-on-one in an interrogation room?"

"I had that same thought then decided that the next time I was in the IR would be too soon."

Lennie agreed. "Then what about setting up the appointment to take place in Skoda or Olivet's office?" To that remark, both men laughed uneasily. "Right. Bad idea, very bad idea. Well, the boys can't say we didn't try to find a solution, right, Jack?"

"Correct," Jack said, putting the cards down. "Although, I don't know which one's more challenging: admitting one is completely free from the physical prison from over a year ago, or acknowledging the invisible one in place now?"

---------------

Fin Tutuola went through the sales receipts once more before pouring the collection into the box beside him. "Look, if our perp is an ordinary kinda guy, I doubt he'd have sent up a signal with a massive purchase. There's nothing here in terms of machines or tapes in bulk."

"Well, Cassady's playing a hunch based on something," Olivia Benson said. "If you guys don't think it's the right route, then-."

"I'm just saying that we're looking for a trail that supposedly starts with the perp. Have we exhausted everything leading back from _McCoy_?"

Benson gave him a look. "Remember the last time we combed through a D.A.'s caseload to find a lead? Do you have that kind of time to spare?"

"Fine. What about a regular doctor or dentist or someone like that? Why are we certain it's some geek with two-point-five children and a standard dog?" Fin challenged.

"We're not certain of anything except that this is a _waste of time._" She stressed the last three words as she tacked the latest information from the current case on the board. "What do we know about this Jane Doe?"

Fin shook his head, not entirely giving up the earlier argument. "Nothing yet. No missing persons report has been filed that matches her description."

Stabler walked by. "Any luck with our Jane Doe?" Fin and Olivia shook their heads. "Mind if I send a copy of the photo to the 2-7? They might be able to lend a hand with this."

----------

Alex Borgia put down the magazine she was reading when her name was called by the receptionist. She followed a nurse to one of the small examination rooms and answered all of the routine questions.

"The doctor will be with you shortly," the nurse said, then closed the door.

Sighing, Alex grabbed a different magazine from a rack on the wall. She almost had the entire thing finished before the door opened again.

"Good afternoon, Miss…" the doctor referred to the chart, "Borgia. I'm Dr. Stillman."

Alex accepted the hand and smiled, then frowned. "But, I came here to see Dr. Castro, my regular doctor."

He offered an apology. "Dr. Castro took medical leave and I'm one of three others dividing up her patient roster for now." He reviewed the chart. "So, how long have you been suffering these headaches, Miss Borgia?"

"A while now," she said sheepishly. "I've tried different remedies, but the aches seem to get worse, not better."

He conducted a routine examination, jotted down the results, then leaned against the counter. "You shouldn't ignore something like this. It could be your body's way of telling you something more serious is afoot."

Alex shook her head. "I know, but it's a matter of finding time during a hectic workday to-."

"Wrong answer, Miss Borgia. You need to _make_ time to take care of yourself. If not, who will? It says here that your occupation is in law. That right there would be a trigger for potential migraines, I'd think."

Alex chuckled softly. "That's what my bosses tell me, too."

"Then you should listen to them," he said, selecting some samples for her.

She studied him a bit longer then asked, "Haven't I seen you somewhere before?"

"I don't believe so." He looked her in the eye and smiled. "I've one of those 'everyman' kinds of faces, I guess."

"I guess," she said, accepting the medication. She stole a peek at his hand; it was indeed her luck – or lack thereof – that he wore a wedding band on his hand. "Been married long, I suppose?"

Dr. Stillman glanced down and nodded. "See, sometimes we need a spouse to remind us of things we tend to forget." He pointed at the prescription. "If your headaches don't decrease after a week, give me a call at my regular office and we'll look into some other alternatives, all right?"

---------

"What other choices do you have?"

Jack stood by the window and watched the day-to-day goings on below. "That's the question, isn't it?"

Emil Skoda smiled. "That's why I asked it, Jack. From what you've told me so far, it seems as though you see yourself taking steps-."

"When I learned how Louise died, it brought back a rush of memories. The worst of them was that Wendy died. That's what this felt like – someone killed because of how close I was to them."

"It sounds like you're convinced it's one of the trio. Is that because Detective Logan suggested it?"

Jack shook his head. "I was convinced when I saw that young lady there. In that instant I saw her, took in that scene… The details…I could hear Bruner's voice so clearly, telling me about… That's why I asked for Detective Green."

Skoda leaned forward, hoping to get Jack to turn around and face him. "This _is_ New York, Jack. People die everyday, by murder or accident. This could be random."

Jack continued as if he hadn't heard. "But, why is this different, yet similar at the same time? Why is it, when I left here, I was able to _leave_ what needed to be left here?" Jack said.

Skoda jotted down some notes. "You had a personal stake in it at the time, even if it wasn't clear to you. Now, you have something challenging your choices of independence and interests that don't fit other people's perceptions."

"I wish I knew what to do now to… I'm not setting out to look for them, and yet it seems as though…"

Skoda decided a different track. "Tell me what I can do to help you regarding this Adrian Keagan person."

"Care to meet me at the 2-7, once I get it cleared with Van Buren, to talk with my stalker?" Jack's uneasy laugh made it hard for Skoda to tell if he was serious or not. If he was…

"How wise do you think that move is, Jack?"

He shook his head. "Common sense says it's the most idiotic move since… Well, since that wandering day I asked you to commit me. If Keagan wants acknowledgement, then how wrong is it for me to give him what he wants, so long as I have a chance to supposedly have some control?"

"What if Keagan senses the hesitation I'm noticing now?"

Jack sat down and thought about it for bit. "I don't intend to live in fear of him the rest of my life. I can't. But, I can't ignore the walls closing in on me, either."


	6. Invitations

Chapter 6 – Invitations

"Again, you're a saint, Mac," Meagan said as she steered the children into the apartment. "I'm sorry if I've totally upset your plans," she said.

"Don't worry about it. A little change into routine is a good thing," Jack said. In the back of his mind, he was relieved that it was a 'gut feeling' to get up earlier than usual versus admitting nerves to noises just outside his door. He wasn't about to admit to Meagan how relieved he was to hear the familiar three taps.

"Why can't family emergencies happen closer to home or at a more convenient hour?"

Jack chuckled. "So you don't like familiar stress added to this bit of adventure?"

"That's all relative, Mac," Meagan said. "I'll try to get back as soon as I can. Otherwise, here's the key and my mother's number."

"They'll be fine," Jack said, pocketing the items. "I'll see to it that they get to and from school and get their homework done and everything."

Trisha tugged on Jack's sleeve. "Uncle Mac, are you going to make us eat our vegetables, too?"

"Of course," he said with a wink.

Trisha shook her head. "It's because I told on you about Casper, isn't it," she said.

Meagan hugged both of her children. "All right, I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Give Nana hugs for us, too," Trevor said.

After Meagan left, Trisha picked up her favorite toy and sat on the couch. "You didn't get a TV. yet," she said. "Any new coloring books?"

"See that bag in the corner, with the teddy bear on it?" She nodded. "That's for you."

Trevor's interest perked up. "Do I have anything?"

Jack nodded. "Remember that wish list of books you wanted from the library? They're on the corner table there."

There was a knock at the door.

"Do you think that's Mommy?" Trisha asked, situating herself at the coffee table.

Jack got up, ignoring the popping sound of his knees. "One way to find out," he said. Checking the peephole, he smiled.

"It's Casper!" Trisha said.

"Oh, no," he said. "It's not Casper." Jack opened the door. "Hello, sweetheart."

"Hi, Dad," Erin said hugging him. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Not at all. Trisha, Trevor and I were about to walk to the café for some breakfast. Care to join us?"

"What's wrong with selecting from the pantry?" Erin asked as she set her bag down by the couch.

Trisha asked, smiling, "Are we playing 'Three Little Bears' again?" Trevor groaned.

"You only have oatmeal, Dad?" Erin said sadly. "That's so… boring." She turned to the children. "What kind of cereal do you kids like?"

Trisha listed as many sugary cereals as possible. Trevor added a few also.

"Tut, tut. That will never do, will it?" Erin said.

"Hey!" Trevor said, "That's what Professor Umbridge said!" He squinted. "You look more like Trelawney, though."

"Thank you," Erin said. Off her father's confused look, "Harry Potter, Dad. I'd get you the DVDs, but…" To the children, she said, "All right, I'll go to the bodega, get us some corn flakes – that way we can control how much sugar you think you're getting and some other foods for a banquet. What do you say?"

"I get to help cook," Trevor said.

"Dad, that does it, you've been replaced. All right then, I better get going," she said.

Jack shook his head. "Fine. Easy come, easy go."

Erin stepped out, digging around in her purse. Whispering, she said, "Dad, you have children here."

"Really?" he said matching her tone and volume. "How perceptive of you."

Chagrinned, Erin took hold of his hand and slapped her cell phone into it. "Be back soon." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

After a large family breakfast, Jack and Erin walked the children to school, and then spent the morning together.

"It's a shame you don't have a way with children, Dad."

"Someone taught me some valuable lessons a while ago." Giving her a side hug, he added, "And you're still quite the teacher, if I may say so?"

Erin smiled. "Well, it's your fault, you know." She linked her arm into her father's. "What do you say we put together a toy box for those two? Sounds to me like they come over quite often."

"They come up when they need to," Jack said. "That doesn't mean I'm buying a television, though. Call me a mean, old man if you want."

Erin shook her head. "No. That invites them calling you Professor Snape, and I see you more of a Dumbledore."

"Are you going to explain this Harry Potter stuff to me, or should I just read the book?"

"That does it, Dad. I'm treating you to one of two tech toys."

"I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"

The shopping trips completed and the house rearranged, father and daughter went to pick up Trisha.

"How come you don't live here with your Daddy?" Trisha asked as Jack paid for a couple of lemonades by the park's entrance.

Erin held the little girl's hand and said, "Because I want him to come live with me."

"You can't do that. We need Uncle Mac here."

"Uncle Mac?" Erin said, giving her father a wry grin. "Well, then I'll just have to invite you and your mother and brother to come up and visit sometimes, then, won't I?"

Trisha said with some finality, "Nope, because he's not going."

Father and daughter exchanged 'what-can-you-do' shrugs as they spend the afternoon in the park, waiting for Trevor's school day to end. Afterwards, they walked to the center.

"So, this is where you work, eh?" Erin said as Trevor and Trisha ran off to catch up with the other children gathered for Benji's storytelling. "No gray suit or tie required. That must be nice."

"What do you have against my gray suits?"

"How many did you take out of storage, then?"

Jack nodded. "Point taken." He introduced her to the others at the center. It amazed him how quickly she and Spencer connected.

Sylvia Huntington approached him with a letter in hand. "Dennis asked me to give this to you." Lowering her voice, she added, "He'll be out until further notice."

Jack felt her trembling. Before anyone else could notice, he led her to Dennis' office then closed the door. "What is it, Sylvia?"

Tears flowed freely down her face as she told him of the message left on her machine. Jack listened silently until Sylvia asked, "Am I wrong? What would you do in this kind of situation?"

His mind went into legal mode almost immediately, thinking from a prosecutor's stand-point, then stepping back to think how the officers would handle it. "You need to call them, now. The trail's still fresh, so there's still a chance…"

"Dennis would kill me if he knew I betrayed him, let alone requested help from-."

"He could target me if he needs to." Jack shook his head, taking Sylvia's hands in his. "The police need to know _now._ Do you want me to call?"

Sylvia slowly nodded her head as she took a crumpled paper out of her skirt pocket. "If you're fired for this…" she said, and then tried to smile. Instead, she broke into tears once more. Jack rubbed her shoulder with one hand as he dialed the police with the other.

"Hello? Yes, could you transfer me to Missing Persons, please?" While he waited, Jack picked up the family portrait Dennis kept on his desk. How many families were shattered like this, he wondered. "Hello? Yes, I need to make a missing persons report…"

A few minutes later, Jack let Sylvia compose herself alone as he let himself out of the office. Benji Lopez stood nearby.

"Hey, Mac," Benji said looking down at a card in his hands, "can I talk to Mr. Zamora yet? I was going to ask him to give an invitation to his daughter for me for the dance." Benji noticed Jack's silence. "Yeah, that's probably a stupid idea, huh."

"No, Benji, it isn't a foolish idea." Jack took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Now isn't the best time, though. How about if I put it on his desk for later? The dance is how many days away?"

"Two weeks. Are you sure, though, Mac? Well, yeah, you're sure, you're…" Benji handed the card to him. "Thanks."

Jack nodded silently, reflecting on things to come. Erin broke him out of his rumination.

"Dad, would you be disappointed if I went out to dinner with Mr. Collins?" Erin asked.

"Don't you like us?" Trisha said, taking hold of Erin's hand tightly as soon as she caught up to the woman.

"I'll be there when you wake up in the morning, honest. Besides, Dad has a surprise for you."

Trevor looked at Jack. "Uncle Mac, is it a cool surprise?"

"You'll like it, I hope," he said. "I want to talk to Spencer for a moment." Jack watched as the three of them made their way to the door as he led Spencer towards the gym.

"Spence, we haven't talked since…"

The other man moved a few steps away. "I'm not comfortable talking about it just yet, if that's all right."

"No. No rush, I mean. I was just wondering how you've been holding up."

"Still standing, you see." Spencer looked sheepish. "Um, I'd like to ask your permission to-."

"Permission granted." Jack tried to put the other man at ease, but not wanting to let him off the hook completely. "I'm entrusting you with someone precious to me. Remember, I know where you live, where you work, and better still." he paused for effect, "I know one of your bosses."

"Thank you, Jack."

"Don't thank me. Erin would have gone out with you even if I said 'no.' Just…" Jack paused. "Have a good time, all right?" Silently, he thought, let nothing bad happen to either of you.

Erin came home a few hours later. "Spencer's quite a gentleman," she said as she sat down on the couch. "So, the toys were a hit?"

"Yes," he said, "especially the treasure chest and its contents."

"What about the TV monitor and player?"

Jack chuckled. "It was a hit for maybe thirty minutes, and then they moved it to the floor." He gestured to the bedroom. "The inflatable bed was a hit, too."

"Good. So, what are you sleeping on?" Erin asked, already having admitted defeat in pursuit of a hotel room and staying with her mother was out of the question.

"Here," he said. "The couch might work for you, unless you want me to set up that other bed."

"You'll get a kink in the neck if you sleep in the chair and you know it." She carried her overnight bag into the bathroom and got ready for bed as Jack rose slowly to get the bedding for the couch.

"My house, my choice, my kink in the neck," he said.

Erin shook her head, amazed at how far he had come along since the last time she chatted with him in an apartment. "So, how is Detective Briscoe doing, Dad?" she called out.

"That's Lennie, to you, young lady," he said. "He's keeping busy with the D.A.'s office. Want to pay him a visit tomorrow?"

"Sure." She sat on the couch, folded her legs, and watched her father for a moment.

"Good." He smiled at her. "So, do I have to come right out and ask for details, Erin?"

She smiled back, glad to be here for now. "No. You'll just have to wait until morning. G'night, Dad."

-----------

"It was the worse date of my life," Nina said as they grabbed their purchase and made it a walking breakfast today. "Aside from that, it was a necessary reminder of why I'm in homicide."

"That's sad," Alex said. "Did I tell you what happened with the Wechsler case?"

Cassady shook her head. "Joe called me as soon as he found out. Don't take this the wrong way, but I hate plea bargains."

"Sorry. Sometimes, it's a matter of looking at the lesser of two evils."

"Not where murder's concerned. Jenny Wechsler…"

Alex slowed her pace, reflecting. "I don't think I had ever seen Connie so irate during a case. Judge Ross pulled her aside and I overheard her say to Connie - 'Shades of McCoy.' At least, that's what it sounded like, to me."

"Speaking of McCoy," Nina said, "I've been looking at the case, unofficially, of course. Lieu would kill me if it seemed like I was going behind her back on this."

"I thought you said the recent murders approved the reopening of it?"

Nina shook her head. "That's what Logan and Fontana are hoping for. If we win, then time is _not_ on our side this time." Off of Alex's look, she said, "Look at how close to home these murders are for Jack – relatively and figuratively speaking."

"It must be terrible to learn how close the monsters are to you no matter how far you've moved."

Nina agreed. "On the upside, sort of, rumor mill has it that as soon as Fontana locates Keagan, McCoy wants a face-to-face with him. Van Buren approved it, too."

Alex pondered the thought. "That doesn't sound good."

Cassady noticed it was up to her to try and alleviate the situation. "Hey, if he could survive Stabler or me in the interrogation room, what's the worse Keagan could do?"

-------

"Dad," Erin said trying to catch up to him. "Dad! Would you listen?"

Jack turned on his heel, forcing Erin into a sudden stop. "Listen? Listen?" He shook his head, still shocked by what he heard once they dropped off the children. "I wanted to spare you from those types of details, Erin!"

"If it helps, he said very little about the topic before we moved on to livelier things."

"I bet," he said, then resumed his walk towards the center. Erin kept up with him, hands stuffed in her pockets. At the next crosswalk, Erin broke her silence.

"Just out of curiosity, when were _you_ going to tell me about this?" Sarcastically, she added, "Oh, that's right, you still refuse to get a phone."

"Don't start with me, young lady. I've my reasons for trying to protect you."

Erin shook her head. "It's either that or you don't trust me to be here to help you. I'm _here_, Dad. Talk to me!"

Jack remained quiet until they entered the center, Jack going straight to the mailroom once he put his things down. He removed a large manila envelop from his box, studied it, then took out the contents.

Erin steadied him as he fell down onto a nearby bench. He replaced the contents and held the envelope firmly out of Erin's reach, both hands clenched into fists.

"I need to know _everything_ that happened last night while you and Spencer were out. I mean _everything,_ Erin."

She looked at him apprehensively. The only other time she had seen him this angry was when she had gotten herself into trouble in college. "All right," she said, suddenly feeling like a child again.

--------

"Detective Fontana," Jack said when they arrived at the 2-7, "please tell me you found him!"

Fontana and Cassady looked at him, Joe shaking his head. "We've had a unit sitting there three days straight and no luck. It's like he vanished right after we collared him at the carnival."

Jack shook his head vehemently. "Keagan's out there." He dropped a plastic bag with an envelope inside it on Fontana's desk. "Those were taken _last night_. I found them at work this morning."

Cassady led Erin to a different room while the men continued, now joined by Logan and Green.

"Still think you're safe?" Logan said, sardonically. Green held an arm out between visitor and partner.

Jack disregarded the comment, focusing back on Fontana. "That's not my primary worry, however." He pointed to the first picture Joe held. "You see, don't you?"

Fontana nodded slowly as he adjusted his glasses. He was seeing, but not necessarily believing. It was impossible and yet the photo showed otherwise. "Green, check the morgues. Logan, see if anyone else picked up our crack-in-the-box."

Joe shuffled through the remaining pictures, careful to hold them by the edges. "Erin's going to need to stay elsewhere tonight."

"So do Ms. Marroni's children. I'm staying."

Joe nodded sagely. "I figured as much. Look, you know Lennie's got room. I'll stay with the Marroni kids in their place, so they're not so displaced."

Jack shook his head. "Where the hell has Keagan been staying at all this time? I've half a mind to go over there and-."

"That's why," Joe said raising his voice slightly, "I'll act as your _logical_ half. This definitely changes the charges against him, that's for sure."

--------

"Do you want the good news or the bad news first?" Munch said as Olivia passed his desk.

"Just tell it already," she said. "Bitter pill first."

Munch handed her the missing persons report. "We've a name to go with one of our Jane Does."

"And the other shoe is?"

John held out an open folder and read some notes he had. "She was a high school sophomore in the Bronx, where her mother taught art. Her dad works at a community center, where the mom sometimes volunteers."

Olivia shrugged her shoulders. "What am I missing here, John?"

"The Bronx. Very close to home for McCoy."

"Have the folks come in to identify her yet?"

John gave a nod in the direction of the door. "They did that first thing this morning. Do you want me to find Elliot before you go talk to them?"

Benson thought about it. "No. Why don't you take his place?"

"Excuse me, Mr. Zamora," John said once the primary part of the discussion was over, "but, do you know a Jack McCoy?"

"He's the one who called you guys? I'll kill him. I mean, I-." Dennis shook his head. "Yeah, he works for me at the center. Why?"

"That was all I was trying to determine – the 'how was he able to make the call' bit. That's all," Munch said.

Mr. Zamora thought for a moment. "We were so concerned about not getting anyone else involved in what we thought was a private problem. That's what I meant about… I mean, I would never…"

"No one's saying you would murder anyone, Mr. Zamora. It's hard to put in that call for help, to invite someone into your…crisis. I'm sure Mr. McCoy-."

"I…. No. He was helping someone in need," Mr. Zamora said. "You'll let us know when you catch the monsters responsible, won't you?"

------------

Green handed the results to Fontana. "No one in the morgues, hospitals or hotels matches his description. And latent hasn't found any prints other than yours or Jack's." Ed took the seat next to the other man's desk. "Hey, Joe, what's this really about? What's in those photos that have him so…?"

"Irate? Irritated? Ticked off?" Joe set down his glasses and leaned forward for only Green to hear. "Someone else took those pictures of Keagan stalking McCoy's daughter and her date. It isn't the fact that Keagan's hit closer to home. It's the fact that either Bruner or Guy Number Six knows it, too and just inviting Jack to do something."

"You'd think that someone would call in if they've seen Bruner?"

Joe nodded. "Maybe. Maybe it's Guy Six who's pushing buttons, too. Either way, someone's watching someone watch someone. Question is, who is watching those watchers?" He turned off his desk lamp, grabbed his jacket and handed Ed a copy of the photos.

"I have this nasty habit of making copies of things; I don't know why. See what you can find studying them tonight. I've got some children to go play with."

Ed laughed. "Uncle Joey's in charge? Should I call the 3-9 in advance?"

Fontana matched his smile. "Nah. They'll hear from me soon enough. Good night."


	7. Instruction

A/N (per RRSherlock pending threat of death) "Danger – Cliff Ahead."

Increase in profanity due to confrontation.

Chapter 7 – Instruction

Jack McCoy couldn't recall the last time he had such a colorful visit. To the children's delight, Meagan came home just as 'Uncle Joey' was about to give them piggyback rides down one at a time. Fortunately, neither man had to explain the possible change of plans to her as they walked her down to her apartment, all items in tow.

On the walk back up, Merle Hans opened his door and insisted on chatting with 'Joey' for a few minutes before the evening news was on.

Afterwards, the two men visited for a couple of hours. Some of the things Jack learned about the former Chicago detective were enlightening to say the least.

"So that's how you can afford your 'better-than-average' sense of style despite a police officer's salary? I wish my folks taught me that before I left Chicago."

"Well, that's the difference between us Italians and you Irish. Nothing personal."

"None taken." Jack said. "I'm just impressed, that's all."

Joe leaned back, swirling the drink in his hand. "In all honesty, how much of your father would you say you were, Jack?"

"I refuse to answer on the grounds that it might lead me to drink. A trait, by the way, that I've learned _all too well_ from him." Jack returned the query. "How about you?"

"Enough to make the old man proud, I'd hope. Of course, you'll notice that I've deliberately chosen not to pass those lessons on to any children of my own."

"Well, I'm sure Meagan would let you into the family as one of the uncles." Both men chuckled.

"Seriously, Jack, you've done a great job with your daughter. I don't know if you see that or not. It shows with the way kids were drawn to you at that carnival, too."

Jack gave a nod of thanks. "What I wouldn't give to ensure her safety completely, though." He leaned forward, folding his hands before him. "What are your thoughts about those pictures?"

"It's either someone you work with who would have put them in the box after hours or someone conned into doing it with gloves on, because they only found your prints and mine on them."

Jack leaned back, shaking his head. "I don't accept that. They're good people, Joe. I can't see any of them doing something like this."

"Well," Joe said, taking his turn to lean forward now, "that's good to know because, I got a call from Munch at the 1-6 who tells me that Mr. Zamora wants to kill you."

Jack visibly collapsed at the unspoken news. "You found her?"

"The SVU team found her days ago. It was only a matter of identifying her, which your phone call allowed. Munch says he'll keep me in the loop as they find anything."

"It was Bruner, wasn't it?"

Joe shook his head. "You can't assume that-."

"Gut feeling, Joe. What was your first thought, seriously?"

Fontana looked back at his glass. "I think you think you've been surrounded by too much bad luck, or that you brought it with you moving here. The Zamora girl had her own problems before this. But, if it helps, I'll get a copy of the autopsy report and see if that seals it one way or the other."

Jack contemplated something. "You know more about this than what you've told some others, don't you?"

"Like what?"

"Logan alluded to it, too. Munch, well, he…" Jack pressed on. "Just how many of you guys hold on to extra cards that none of us are aware of, that _I'm_ aware of? Because there are times I feel as if… I feel as if I'm surrounded by Keagan times too many."

Joe wasn't going to insult his host. "Munch and I share reports back and forth frequently, like some things he learned about Keagan recently. As for other…details, I received two video tapes courtesy of Ms. Wendy Douglas at the beginning. I let Munch see them to find out what he could add. We both in turn let one other see them. It wasn't meant to be a 'behind-your-back' kind of thing, given the state of mind you were understandably in. Logan and Stabler were the only other ones; I swear."

Jack accepted the explanation. "That adds new meaning to Logan's words, then. You don't mind if I have no intention of ever seeing them, right?"

Joe shook his head. "Not at all. Here's what gets me, though Jack. Who is to say that the one who gave you the stills isn't the one with… Never mind."

"No, you're not allowed to drop it now. Are you saying there are more tapes? That whomever…" Jack got up to get something from the kitchen.

"I'm sorry I said anything," Joe said. "It's out there and I can't take it back. There are some of us who speculate that there are more tapes out there. Tapes currently in the possession of the guy you're having a challenging time recalling."

"Don't apologize," Jack said. "We can only control what's in front of us, here and now. I intend to go forward with my life and demons be damned."

------

"Where did you learn to play cards like that?" Lennie asked as he watched Erin chalk up another win.

She shrugged. "Dad would bring home these boring movies sometimes. The oldies that featured any sort of a game, I'd jot down the game then teach myself how to play it. So, I learned gin rummy because of "The Apartment." Actually, that wasn't so much a boring film - sad at times, but not boring."

Lennie looked at her, amazed. "Does your father know this?"

"Nope. Never saw fit to tell him or my mother, either. Oh my gosh, my mother! Lennie, will you give my eulogy when the time comes? If he told Mom, then I'm definitely dead."

Laughing, Lennie said, "I don't think either parent will kill you." In a more somber tone, he said, "Look, your father's allowed to worry about you, all right? There's no expiration date on that kind of thing, so you're stuck with it for life."

Erin shuffled the cards preoccupied with something. "Lennie, do you think it's wrong of me to have assumed that he'd move in with me after ignoring him for so long? I mean, if your children did that to you, would you probably turn down an idiotic idea like that?"

"What kind of guidance do you want with that answer, Erin? There's a time when a child should be acknowledged as the adult they are and live their own lives without worry or appeasement. I'm sure your father would accept your invitation. Then again, you heard what he said the last time you were here having a heart-to-heart."

"He's stubborn; I'll give him that."

Lennie chuckled. "He says the same about you, so there."

"May I use your phone? I want to call him and wish him good night."

Lennie pointed to the phone as he cleared off the table. Erin dialed her cell phone number, waiting for an answer. "Your purse is buzzing," he said. A nod from Erin, Lennie took out the source and showed it to her.

"Bastard," she said, hanging up one phone as she stared at her own.

Lennie turned to conceal the smirk on his face. Hell, he hated the things as much as Jack did and silently gave the other man kudos for the smooth move. "Let me see that," he said, trading her phones. He knew Joe would answer.

-----

Joe finished his side of the phone conversation, then handed the cell to Jack. While father and daughter talked, Joe scanned the rest of the room out of curiosity. There weren't many things in the apartment, he noticed. What little there was did speak volumes of who the owner was.

"You may have chosen wisely in not having children, Joe," he said, returning the phone. "You'd think our roles were reversed the way she carried on."

"So long as you don't develop a complex from it," Joe said. "Look, I'm going to get going here. I'll swing by Keagan's place and see if we might not be lucky this time. I'd offer to let you come along, but then your kid would have my head for letting you get away with murder."

"Joe, you're an officer of the law," Jack deadpanned.

He nodded. "That's what would make your kid's lecture a pain in the neck to endure. Stop by the precinct tomorrow, will you?"

--------------

"Seems to me," Jack said during the morning walk, "that you were wrong about 'Joey,' Merle."

Mr. Hans shook his head. "I've been wrong about many things lately; like how safe it is around here anymore."

Jack drew back a few paces. "Someone told me this is New York, murders happen. Do you seriously think you'd be safer in say, San Diego or Atlanta? Where there's life, there's death. Where there's death, there's life."

Merle pivoted on his heel and stared at Jack. "You're getting a bit ahead of yourself, aren't you? Those heavily philosophical discoveries aren't supposed to be found until you reach my age, boy."

Jack shook his head. "Ignore the ignorant boy behind you," he said, quickening his pace slightly.

"You get to my age, things look differently." Jack laughed. "What's so funny?"

"Now I know why my daughter hates that saying. It doesn't sound any better with you saying it than when I do."

Merle laughed along with him, then gestured ahead saying, "Well, let me try telling her anyway. I bet she'll listen to me."

Jack was surprised to see Erin approaching them from around the corner. "I told you I'd meet you at the precinct this afternoon."

"I'm sorry. Instinct told me I couldn't trust you. You're stuck with me the entire day, Dad."

Merle pursed his lips as he turned to go back. "On second thought, Mac, maybe you won't make it."

They watched as the older man headed back alone. Jack couldn't help but wonder if that was what he was setting himself up for by pushing family away.

"You won't make what, Dad?"

"Sense, dear. I probably won't make sense." He embraced his only child, thankful that she was safe, thankful that she was aware of the extended family she had here, so she'd never… "Do you mind working along side your old man for a couple of hours until this afternoon?"

Erin looked at him. "Sure. But, what's going on this afternoon?"

"An appointment of sorts, it's nothing serious."

"Speaking of appointments, Mom wanted me to ask when your next scheduled one is with the doctor. If it's after I leave, you're in trouble."

He rolled his eyes. "If your mother's pushing me, then that alone is trouble, dear. Fine, I'll make an appointment when we get to the center. Satisfied?" Erin shook her head.

----

Dennis and Jack exchanged silent greetings as the director continued with the impromptu meeting. "So, that is what's happened; that's what is going on. Sylvia's in charge, but I'll still be in reach if you need me. Any questions?" None to be had, the meeting broke up in uneasiness.

After a moment, Dennis made his way to Jack. "I never… You know…"

"Don't worry about it. If there's anything I can do, all right?"

"It's been one hell of a time, hasn't it, Jack? Just when you think you've learned all of life's lessons, a nasty curve ball is thrown your way."

The only thing Jack could do was listen, hoping things wouldn't get any worse.

------------

"So, you haven't made a follow-up appointment because?" Nina asked as they walked quickly toward the courthouse. Nina was scheduled to testify at one trial while Alex was assigned to work another.

"Because I looked up the number and learned it's an alternative medicine clinic, that's why," Alex said. "I'm not sure I feel comfortable with acupuncture and such, you know?"

Nina stopped Alex before they went up the stairs to the trial rooms. "Look, either you follow the doctor's instructions or get ready to pay the consequences. It doesn't take a law degree to see the logic in that."

"Well, I'd also rather wait until my regular doctor gets back."

Nina made a face. "Wait, who did you see last time, then?"

Alex shook her head. "That's beside the point. The point is, I'd rather wait and see than make an unnecessary appointment, that's all."

-------------

"Is this really necessary?" Benson asked as she posted all the available photos they had of the many Jane Does. "You'd think we would have found a pattern by now, guys. There is none."

Munch pulled five photos off the board, ignoring Olivia's look of annoyance. "These marks here, on the chest - anyone see anything familiar about them?

Elliot took two from Munch's reach. "Damn it. And these two vanished when?"

"About a year ago for the first one, almost a year and a half for the other," John said.

"But, the bodies didn't turn up until the last eight months or so. Where have they been in the meantime?" Fin asked. "We already staked out the location Borgia got for us and the one Fontana and Cassady found."

Olivia shook her head. "Guys, there's no physical evidence to connect them, aside from a pattern that looks eerily similar to Bruner's. Do you really want to jump to conclusions here?"

"Liv's right," Elliot said. "Bruner's learned to cover his tracks with the exception of the cutting." He looked over the board trying to find other pictures. "Let's take these five certain ones and see where the dots connect."

Fin grabbed the remaining three pictures. "Did we add the Zamora photo to this?"

"I'll work that one," Munch said.

"You're not taking it because it's become personal to you, are you?" George Huang said, walking up on the group. "If you are, then-."

"Hey, George," John said, looking down his nose and yet over his glasses, "the day you tell me how to do my job is the day I tell you how to do yours, got it?"

Huang didn't flinch as he looked up. "I'm just reminding you of the necessary boundaries – for sanity's sake, John."

----------------------

Jack left the precinct in a fouler mood than when he entered. The fact that Logan and Fontana thought they could corner him into giving a description of the sixth man, still, irritated him. To watch his daughter go through a similar battery of questions, by Detective Cassady, at least, wasn't quite, yet somewhat, painful.

At least Detective Green was able to corroborate Erin's story about the night in question. He had even taken it upon himself to initiate a canvassing of the area to see if they could get any possible leads. The hope in Green's voice alleviated the aggravation that threatened to lose Jack his.

"Let's get a bite to eat, Dad," Erin said, taking his arm in hers.

She tried to distract him during dinner about her life back in Maine, and the joys of being one's own boss. He chuckled at the thought of her clashing repeatedly with _any_ boss that tried to give her specific instructions for any task.

"Order me dessert, will you?" she asked, excusing herself to go to the washroom.

Jack was debating his own choice when someone brushed up against his arm. He looked up but didn't see the passerby clearly. On the table, near his hand, a napkin was left, with writing on the underside of it.

_She's safe._

He pocketed it just as Erin sat down. "You're not sore with me, are you, Dad?" she asked, starting in on the plate in front of her. "I tried to get out of it and-."

"Go," he said. "Your mother won't leave you alone otherwise. I promise to give you a note from my doctor as proof of attendance, all right?"

"She wants me to spend the night. I told her-."

"Spend the night. You might get a decent night's sleep for a change."

Erin smiled. "You know, there's no place like home. As selfish as this might sound, I'd like you to come with me."

"To your mother's? Are you sure you didn't have anything to drink?" He winked at her before she could say anything. "Let me think about Maine a bit longer, all right, Erin? You know me; I need a 'pros' and 'cons' chart to weigh the options."

"On the pro side, you can list 'no cons to deal with,'" she said.

Jack shook his head. "Are you sure you weren't meant to be a lawyer?"

---------------------

The following day went without major incident – his daughter escorted to her mother's thanks to Danielle; a sane day at the center, save for the startling news that Spencer thought about quitting his internship already; and no other notes or photos to react to. The visit to the doctor's proved to be a waste of time, in Jack's opinion. At least he had the results ready to put his daughter at ease.

The only spice added to the night was the fact that Merle Hans had, at last, asked Greer Richter out on a date. Between that and the Cantors and Marronis attending the all-school concert, something Jack wasn't quite energetic enough to attend, it dawned on Jack that this was the first time in a while that he had a night to himself.

As he sat down to read his book, there was a knock on the door. Jack ignored it until it continued in a steady rhythm. He saw no one there when he looked through the peephole. Even then, the knocking persisted. Against his better judgment, he opened the door.

"Hello, Jackie."

Jack stood his ground, refusing to call out for help or slam the door in this intruder's face, even as common sense told him to do so.

"The least you could do is let me in, don't you think?" Despite his best efforts, Jack took the few steps back necessary to let _him_ in.

"You do seem to have the most interesting people stopping by lately. I don't know if I like that, but then who am I to judge? You're probably making up for lost time, I suppose." _He_ took a seat in the armchair, folded his hands and waited. "You're awfully quiet, tonight, Jackie. I don't even get a 'hello' from you?"

"Why are you here?" Jack said at last.

_He_ clicked his tongue. "You're not even going to ask me how I found you? All right, then I'll get to the point. Someone wants to see you. Tonight."

Jack shook his head. "I don't-."

"You don't have a choice, Jackie."

---

Jack glowered at the man before him. Part of him wished he could have granted Fontana's request in a one-on-one meeting with Keagan. Part of him was glad the officer or anyone else from his support group wasn't around.

"How dare you," Jack said, aware of the trickle of blood in his mouth from biting his tongue furiously. "My _daughter_ wasn't part of your 'pawn collection.' So help me, you can't possibly think of a reason why I shouldn't kill you."

"Oh, come on, Jackie. You're mad at me because I did you a favor in getting rid of that old lady. Seeing you on the balcony with her… No, no, no, I'm not going to let her take you from me. The younger girl was an extra, if you will."

That revelation stunned Jack. "It wasn't… You bastard!"

Keagan laughed. "Oh, where is the Jackie that I've loved?" Adrian approached Jack, slapping him across the mouth. That close up, Jack could smell the alcohol on Adrian's breath. The trickle grew into a dribble now. "To think how I longed to kiss that mouth. Instead, you _spit_ at me and send your pathetic _pigs_ after me. If anyone's justified to murder, it's me, love."

"Sit down." Keagan sat.

Jack looked over his shoulder, acknowledging the other man's presence and control. The voice was so commanding, so authoritative; it didn't surprise Jack why he obeyed the orders still. "You've won," Jack said, looking from one man to the other. "I give up."

Adrian cackled. "No, you give yourself to us completely. I _own_ you and there's nothing you can do that will change that. You may not want me, but remember, I _chose_ you; even if you refused to choose me."

"I'm neither father, Adrian," Jack said, finding strength in the nerve he struck in his captor. "Who in their right mind would want to call you their son?"

Adrian lunged at Jack, backhanding him with his fist. This time, the blood streamed down his chin and unto his shirt. "I'll make you call out!"

While Jack spat out the blood in his mouth, the other captor forcibly sat Keagan down. "You're a little late for that, aren't you," Jack said, glancing at Keagan.

"Shh, Jackie," the other captor said. "Or I might be forced to reconsider the choices."

Jack watched as a gun was placed in one of Keagan's unsteady hands, bringing a smile to Keagan's face. Keagan tightened his hold on the revolver, finger poised to fire.

"What are you doing?" Jack asked, struggling against his restraints.

"Jackie, that's not what we taught you."

He refused to give in, had no intention of giving in. He would _not_ beg them.

Keagan's words slurred, "C'mon, Jackie. For old time's sake, say the words. If not, I just might fire anyway. Then you'll know real pain."

Jack focused on Keagan's eyes. "Then, fire."

"Tough guy in the end," his captor said, gloved hand still holding Keagan's. "So be it. Everybody dies."

A shot rang out.


	8. Inspiration

A/N (Per RRSherlock warning of definite death) Slightly shorter chapter, and cliff (Grand Canyon?) approaching fast.

Chapter 8 – Inspiration

"Joe, tell me I'm wrong about this idea," Nina said as she sat down.

Fontana looked up at his partner, amused. It was the first time since they began working together that she had ever come late for work. "Fine, you're wrong."

Cassady shook her head. "You haven't heard it yet. It sounds stupid, if you think about it, but-."

"How about letting me hear it, then I'll decide," he said, putting down the interviews from the Dillon case.

"What if the doctor did it?"

Joe was speechless for a moment. "What if the doctor did it?" he repeated. "Nina, the punch line is usually the butler. What doctor?"

"Will you do a background check on Donall Stillman for me?"

He leaned back, considering his response carefully. "What probable cause do you have in wanting to do a background check on him? If memory serves, he was a victim of a robbery."

"Or so he says," Nina countered. "I just… It's gnawing at me, all right?"

Joe shook his head. "It gnaws at you much longer, you'll be joining me in the ulcer department," he said as he got up to go to the records room.

----------

Elliot Stabler put down the photo of Lois Winslow beside the others. "Got something for you," he said to Olivia.

"I thought we were looking at the Jane Does here," she said, picking up the photo anyway. "Someone at the 2-7 thinks Bruner's behind this, too?"

Stabler sat down on the edge of her desk. "That was the initial thought. But," he pointed to the marks, "They're not a total match, either."

Benson shrugged. "I told you that about some of the others. I'm not following you – and I'm beginning to hate that lately."

"They look like Bruner's markings, but the others were a variation. Think of it as a perfect signature and I mean 'dead on' perfect. For example…" He picked up one of her reports with her signature, copied over it onto another piece of paper then gave both of them to her. "Get what I'm saying now?"

"Son-of-a-. Who else had access to the details of his handiwork?"

"I'd give you at least six guesses, and three of them are behind bars." Stabler flipped through one of the folders. "Of the five pulled so far, they were found on desolate roads that, if you kept traveling on, would take you out of state."

"So, Bruner isn't even in New York? I don't like that, Elliot."

He stared at something. "I don't, either. But, it's as if we're supposed to think that he's gone."

"Why not dead and save us some more headaches and heartache?"

Stabler studied the folder and then the board, searching. "He's definitely getting more creative, that much, I'll say."

--------

"That was an uncreative way how Huang baited you, John," Fin Tutuola said as they searched through the Zamora girl's bedroom.

"I'm not taking this personally," Munch said as he thumbed through her diary. "I take this case the same way I do all the others."

"Right," Tutuola said doubting. "Anything helpful over there?"

Munch shook his head. "She talks about how she had a crush on an older guy at the center; what a shame it was that he was probably married; and how her father's an idiot."

"Aren't we all?" Fin said. "I'm glad my kid's all grown, not saying I'm not going to worry less about him, but you know. I don't have to stress over out-of-state field trips and the like."

"Why can't kids tell their fathers the truth, huh? Why this need to be rebellious and defiant and secretive?"

Fin gave a short laugh. "Wasn't your whole generation about rebellion and defiance, not to mention paranoia? John, this kid kept stuff back, and they knew it. Unlike you or me, they didn't force it out of her." He picked up a collection of photos. "Now these are spooky."

John looked over his shoulder. "Joe's not going to like this."

"Joe? How about dear old dad? Maybe he wasn't kidding about wanting to kill-." At the sound of approaching footsteps, the detectives collected those and other various items into evidence bags.

"Did you find anything helpful?" Mrs. Zamora asked.

Tutuola nodded. "Maybe, ma'am. We'll get to the bottom of this, I promise you."

-----------------

"I assure you," Mrs. Stillman said, "my husband has done everything possible to ensure that that kind of theft doesn't happen again. Oh, you should have heard him on the phone. I seldom hear him raise his voice, so when he does, it's…it's something else." She busied herself with unpacking her travel bags into the other room.

"I'm sure, Mrs. Stillman," Logan said. He hated the fact that he drew the short straw for this interview. The fact that Fontana found the sliver he did amazed Mike. It was that sliver that supported this shabby set-up, in his opinion. "How well did he and Dr. Havens get along?"

"Please, call me Linda," she said. "Maggie? Oh, they went through med school together. They worked at the same hospital for a while, too, until Donall decided to set up his own clinic. He's very knowledgeable, you know, about alternative cures. It's not all about popping pills, you see."

Logan rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. Either this woman was possibly oblivious to anything negative in life, or Stillman was really a saint. "Linda, how regular is his work schedule? I mean, does he have to travel a lot, or…?" He had some of the background information from Fontana and decided to tap around it.

"He goes to conventions and such as to be expected. I don't really keep a diary of his travels, but he sometimes brings me lovely trinkets. He's at the office now, if you wish."

After writing down a few notes and asking some additional questions, Logan dismissed himself. Unexpectedly, he met up with Dr. Stillman in the driveway. "Doctor," Logan said. He gestured to the house, "Your wife said you'd still be at work."

"And you are…?"

"Detective Logan," he said offering his hand. "I was just trying to get some surrounding information about Dr. Havens. There's a case we're investigating and we're trying to cover any and all possible angles."

Dr. Stillman nodded. "I understand. It's amazing all you guys have to go through to find your answers. Care to finish this conversation in the garage? I'd rather my wife not… You understand?"

"Of course," Logan said, following the doctor through the side door. "It's no different than medicine, I suppose – analyze the symptoms to identify the illness then apply the necessary cure."

Stillman nodded. "Yes, but I have a chance to extend a life. You, on the other hand… I don't know how you do it. What questions do you have for me, Detective Logan?"

---

Fontana hung up the phone. "You're not going to like what Logan found out."

"What?" Cassady asked.

"Nothing. He's a typical doctor, unless failure to belong to a country club violates typical." Fontana leaned back in his chair. "Now, may I tell you you're wrong, since we know it with facts?"

Nina sat down, defeated. "Well, it was worth a shot."

Fontana agreed. "At least you have an answer."

"It doesn't mean I have to agree with it." She gestured to the scattered papers. "What's wrong?"

"Munch called. We might have been premature in dismissing Mr. Zamora's comment, if what was found in the girl's room is to be an indicator." He shook his head. "Personally, I think it's a matter of poor timing."

"Speaking of time, want to flip a coin on who gets to re-interview Ms. Weaver?"

"Oh, let's just get it over with," he said. "As much as I want to avoid the woman, there's no reason to wish punishment like that in having you go solo."

-------

"Just so you know, we're not officially here having this meeting."

"Oh, of course not," Emil Skoda said. "We just happened to meet at the same café to escape diagnosing dilemmas on behalf of D.A.s and defense attorneys, right?"

George Huang laughed. "Someone could have a field day about which café we chose today."

Emil looked at one of the paintings featuring the café's name. "You mean 'Socrates?' I don't know what meaning could possibly be drawn from that," he deadpanned. "I'm supposed to meet Jack later today and dissuade him from meeting Keagan."

"What are your reasons?" George asked.

"That he isn't ready for it. It's as if a part of him is overcompensating for what was lost during the trials – physically, emotionally, and legally. I know we encourage our patients to face their fears, yet…" Emil took a drink. "I suspect I'm not the only one against this."

George shook his head. "Someone like Adrian Keagan would look at that confrontation as a confirmation of his sense of power. He'd twist it to some sort of torment or payback, based on what we learned about him from his brother."

"Ah, yes, the 'daddy issues.' Most children driven to that point of rage call it quits at murder."

"But how much pain could be inflicted on a dead person?"

Emil thought about it. "So, Keagan's after physical control; Bruner's had psychological control, and that still leaves us Captor Number Six, 'Paul.' I don't know if that would be the actual name or what." He answered his own question, "Given that he didn't know the other names, I'll assume the answer is no. So, why choose Paul?"

"Do we really want to dissect the meaning behind this or say it was the first name that came to mind? If we're assigning meanings, then you have a traveler, a pope, a singer, and a messenger, to pick the top four."

Smiling, Skoda leaned forward. "To know Jack would be to eliminate the traveler and pope – not so much into his faith, and any reminder of such might be a bit bitter. Musically, the singer has potential, but that's unlikely. As for the messenger…I don't see it. Of course, are we analyzing who we think this Paul means or who he means to Jack?"

"Something has to explain Jack's reluctance of offering details about him, that's certain. How strong of a hold could this person have?"

Emil sighed. "That's the key question, isn't it? I'll ask him when I see him. In the meantime, I also get to consider whether it's in his best interest to take up his daughter's invitation and move to Maine."

"Is it something he wants to do?"

"Don't know. I could think of quite a few people who would be happy if the answer was yes."

George nodded. "And at least three who would definitely disagree."

--------

Alex Borgia sat in the examination room listing the various ways and reasons she had for paying Nina back for this. The only good thing that came out of it was the compromise – hence Alex waiting at her regular clinic.

"Good evening," Dr. Stillman said. "I wasn't certain if I'd see you again or not. How are the headaches?"

"Better," she lied. "I promised a friend that I'd see you to be sure."

Dr. Stillman gave her a disapproving, closed-lip smile. "I'm sure you learned the hazards of lying, given your job, no?" He pulled a stool up to the side of the bed and sat in front of her, equal level. "Tell me, Ms. Borgia, what fears do you have about something you've never tried?"

"Aside from the fact that I've never tried it, you mean? I don't like needles. I don't like cures that go outside of the realm of what I know medicine to be." She explained, "I've an aunt and uncle who practice medicine in Boston."

He nodded. "What if I promised you that it is perfectly safe? That you would be safe during the entire procedure? I'd tell you everything I would do before it happened. Would that help?"

"It might." She hadn't realized that she had dropped her shoulders. "The one friend I would have gone to, to seek advice from, well, he's unavailable at the moment."

"Why is that?" Stillman asked, relaxed.

"Why is he unavailable? Honestly, I don't want to intrude on his schedule."

He shook his head. "That's not what I meant. "Why do you trust this one particular friend?"

Alex smiled. "I thought you practiced medicine, Dr. Stillman, not psychology."

"The state of the mind leads the way to the state of the body; the state of the body, the mind."

"Fine." She sighed, playing around with an earring. How to begin, she wondered? "He has a way of putting me at ease, of helping me logically look for something I either don't want to see or failed to see." She unconsciously took the earring off and began moving it about her fingers. "He's well-informed, open-minded and sincere. I trust him, even when I kid with him that lately I don't."

Alex looked at him and laughed uneasily. "I don't know why I just told you all of that. It's almost as if I were trying to be Catholic and praying with my rosary or something."

Dr. Stillman took the necklace in one hand and Alex's hand in the other. "I can only imagine how special this necklace is," he said.

Alex let go of the earring to better undo the clasp of the necklace. "My brothers gave it to me, as a graduation present. Each stone represents an older sibling."

He studied it for a while. "There's no shortage of men in your life it seems," he said, pocketing the earring before he refastened the necklace. He began massaging her neck. "The tension here is terrible, Ms. Borgia."

"I've reasons to worry," she said. "The unknown takes up the majority of it."

"You're coming up to my office; no arguments, now. I'm sure if Dr. Castro were here she'd either agree with me or recommend you to see me. So, either way, I'd still be seeing you."

Alex felt the knots smooth away under his touch. "Dr. Stillman, I was all set to feeling horrible about making you come out here after closing hours like this."

"Not to worry, Ms. Borgia, you're safe of harassment from me; I know what you do for a living." Finishing the massage, he returned to his seat and wrote something down. "Here's my office location, number, and your appointment time. Now, if you'll allow me to walk out with you, to be sure you're safe…"

-----------

Green hung up the phone, as Logan walked in. "So, how mad are they with you about the interview?"

Logan shook his head. "It was a fishing expedition if anything. I'm sure we'd have done the same thing if we had to."

"Don't get too comfortable," Green said. "We just got a call to head out to the Bronx."

"Why?

"You wouldn't believe whose body they found in the river inside the park."


	9. Jump

Chapter 9 – Jump

Mike Logan would have bet his partner a million dollars that this day would never come. And he would have lost. He knelt down beside the body and slowly turned it over. It amazed him how much damage a .22 caliber gun could do to the human skull. Even with a barely recognizable 'face' to reference, Mike knew who he was looking at, based on the rest of the body. 

"Humor me and tell me there was a wallet," he told the officer on the scene. 

Officer Newton handed him two evidence bags, each containing something. "I'll do you one better: wallet and weapon, with a good chance still of getting prints off it." 

"I'll be damned," Ed said. "Do you want to get yelled at by Fontana or do you want me to?" 

"Forget Fontana," Mike said, surveying the surrounding area. "Have you guys canvassed the area to see if anyone saw or heard anything? There's no way someone could ignore this." 

Newton laughed, "This is Bronx Park, Mike. Who says anyone would _want_ to admit to hearing anything?" 

"When was time of death?" Green asked, examining the gun. 

"Our guy puts it as sometime late last night, around eleven or twelve, maybe. Not many folks out and about at that hour, especially in this part of the park." 

Mike nodded. "Canvas the neighborhood anyway. We need anything we can get." Newton agreed and left. 

"After all of that, it comes down to this?" Ed said. "I'm still torn on how I should be reacting here, Mike." 

"Either way, this warrants a drink later." So much for plans of calling it a day, he thought. "Ready to pull a double shift, pal?" 

Ed gave him a look. "Does it look like we have a choice?" 

----------------

John Munch sat on the other side of the desk wondering what could possibly be going through the director's mind today. From the interviews conducted earlier, John expected to talk with Ms. Huntington, temporary head director. Against logic and common sense, Munch looked at a distraught father, instead. 

"What happened to taking a leave of absence, Mr. Zamora?" Munch asked. "Given what's happened to your family, within your neighborhood, I would have thought-." 

"And you thought wrong," Dennis snapped back. "Look, work is what I know. It's my job to try and keep these neighborhood kids out of trouble!" 

John bit back a smart-ass remark, not doing much to calm the other man.   
"My daughter started seeing this older guy despite my threats and her mother's warnings. We'd have locked her in her room if that did any good, but then you people would be after us for unlawful imprisonment."   
Fin picked up the questioning. "Could you describe this guy to us? How long has she been seeing him? Things that might help us find this creep, because we could get him on statutory rape." 

Dennis nodded. "I only saw him once. Should have gone over to him and snapped him in half when I had the chance." 

"You don't strike me as a violent guy, Mr. Zamora," Tutuola said calmly. "Even your staff supports that characterization." 

"Fathers do funny things to protect family," Dennis said. "Anyway, the scrawny guy irritated me." Mr. Zamora continued with the description as Fin and John exchanged knowing glances. When Zamora finished, Fin took out a photo. 

"Would you say this was the man, sir?" 

Mr. Zamora nodded. "That's the s.o.b. whose neck I'd have loved to crush. He gave my daughter different packages and she'd tuck them aside where we couldn't find them. Never did find out what was in them, but she'd stop by the center, say something to Jack and every time she did that, he'd shake his head, walking the other way. Every time, he did that." 

"What was it about, do you know?" 

Dennis shook his head. "I'd ask; Jack never answered." He paused. "Pardon me. I think I still want to kill him." 

"You mean your daughter's gentleman caller?" Fin prompted. 

"No. Jack." He raised his voice again, "I give my _life_ to _saving_ these kids and what happens? Despite what I try to do?!" He lowered his voice again, taking a deep breath. "If you'll excuse me…" 

Munch and Fin stepped out of Mr. Zamora's office in time to see one person running after another fleeing for the door. 

"Erin!" 

Fin put his arm out to block the other man, just as Benji Lopez approached. "Spencer didn't do anything; leave him alone!" 

Fin ignored the remark as he joined Munch in pursuing Erin McCoy. They caught up with the young woman at the corner of the block. John stopped her with a firm hand on her arm. 

Alternating fury and frustration, she clenched and opened her fist, keeping her eyes on the ground. "Erin?" 

She shook her head. 'Sorry. Déjà vu like a freight truck back there. That… That was my father back there, you know? Minus the scotch, and my mother yelling back, but that was my father. My father who didn't show up to work today. My father who… I'm sorry." Erin turned and punched the brick wall behind them. Before she could punch again, Fin blocked her, holding her fist in his hand. 

"John, give us a minute, would you?" 

"Let me guess, this is the parental guilt expertise, right?" He winked at Erin, trying to deescalate her, even momentarily. "I'm going to have another chat with Dennis, the potential menace." 

Fin led Erin around the corner as they made their way to a nearby walkway. "I'm mad," she said. 

He nodded. "No kidding? Well, I think I heard a few reasons why back there. Want to talk about it?" 

"Like I have a choice?" She sighed. "I didn't want to spend a second night at my mother's. I didn't want to spend the day chaperoned by Danielle. I didn't want to have Lennie looking after me like an overprotective father." 

"So, you haven't been to your father's place yet?" 

Erin laughed. "Oh, I have! He wasn't there. So, I figured he was here at work. Is he? No! Spencer told me he was scheduled to have these two days off so he could work the double weekend shift. So, if he isn't here, where is he? So help me, when I find him, I'm taking him home to Maine whether he likes it or not!" 

Fin smiled. "Good luck on that fight, Erin. Did he have any appointments or anything that you know about?" 

"I twisted his arm to see the doctor. Doesn't mean he did it. Knowing him, he's going to lie to me about it." 

Something occurred to Fin. "Why didn't you just let yourself into the apartment? Your dad gave you a key, didn't he?" 

Erin looked sheepish. "I left it with my mother because she wanted to make a copy for herself. Forgot to ask for it back, silly me. I would have called the super, but I don't have the number." 

Fin nodded. "Then let's say we go do that now?" 

------

"Now there's no doubt about it whatsoever?" Van Buren asked Logan and Green. "As in none." 

Logan shook his head. "So far the scene plays out the way the evidence shows. Even Rodger's report reflects that. There's no foul play to this that meets the eye. It was a self-inflicted gunshot to the head." 

Van Buren took it in. "I suppose on the plus side, Rubirosa won't have to prosecute this case then." 

"Nah," Green said, "If anything, we were robbed of justice." 

Logan glanced at him, bemused. "I'd say Keagan did his part and saved the taxpayers some money." 

Van Buren kept silent, pondering which man was right. "Someone find McCoy and bring him in here." 

----

Emil Skoda tried to interpret the change of mood in his patient standing by the window solemnly. This wasn't like Jack, nor was missing his appointment yesterday. "What happened, Jack?" 

"I left you a message." 

"About the appointment, I know. Voice mail has its benefits - like avoiding talking to a real person to offer an explanation." 

Jack didn't turn. "What can I say? I was tied up." 

Emil nodded. "So, what were you doing?" 

"What do you mean?" 

It wasn't Emil's strong suit, but when he had to, he could be confrontationally mean when he needed to be. "What do I mean? I mean that Elizabeth was calling here to see if you were here. I mean you weren't at work yesterday. I mean the folks who usually see you on a regular basis noted your absence. I mean the last time you pulled an absentia act; someone brought you back from the park. I mean you could have gone ahead with a confrontation with Keagan without the support you asked for. I mean you've never gone AWOL with an appointment before." He knew he spoke truthfully about the first and last items. The others he made up to gauge the response. 

Jack's stillness unsettled him. "Well?" 

"I went out. I stayed elsewhere. I left you a message to cancel. What's the problem?" 

The answer and monotone delivery didn't sit well with Skoda, either. "So, the first chance you have to enjoy a quiet evening home you go out? When people like Van Buren, Logan, Melnick and others, your daughter especially, try to force you out, you stay; but when they're not around you leave? That isn't logical, is it?" 

Jack didn't answer as he turned to look at him. Emil switched tactics, addressing the bruise on his face. "What happened there," he asked, tapping the side of his mouth. 

"Nightmare out of control, it's nothing." 

"Taking your medication? Or is that what's making you restless?" 

Jack chuckled, startling Skoda. This time, Jack turned to leaned his back against the window frame. "Is that the solution, Doc? Pill-popping provides perfect peace?" 

Skoda didn't know which direction this would go in now. "Why don't you tell me, Jack?" 

The silence continued. If Skoda was right, Jack was hiding more than usual. That reminded him of the question he had in mind. "Why haven't you given any details about your last captor?" 

"Why must you always go back to that?" 

"I don't know. Maybe it's because I'm curious as to whether or not you ever think about going back to it, yourself." Jack winced; Emil finally hit a nerve. "Am I wrong, Jack? Are you about to jump several steps back versus pushing forward?" 

"Why don't you tell me," Jack mimicked Skoda. 

Emil shrugged. "I could do that, I suppose. Somehow, one of us wouldn't like the diagnosis. What do you think?" 

He shook his head. "There's nothing to tell. I'm sorry for wasting your time." Jack took steps to leave. Skoda stood in the way. 

"There's nothing that says I have to use the full hour, doctor," Jack said. 

"And there's nothing that says I have to let you go voluntarily." Emil searched Jack's face, trying to find a different weak spot to push upon. "Not as a doctor, but as a friend, I'm asking you, what happened, Jack?" 

"As a friend, let's just say it will stir up more trouble, more than likely." 

Emil stood his ground. "Then let's finish the hour. What's said here stays here; you know that." 

Unexpectedly, Jack folded into the nearby armchair, face falling forward into waiting hands. Emil sat in the chair nearby and waited. After a moment, Jack brought his hands down as if to wipe away the stress. All it did was call to Emil's attention the dark circles under his eyes. 

"I watched a man kill himself." Jack took a deep breath. "I watched him kill himself and I don't feel the least bit of sadness about it." 

Emil leaned back slightly and said, "You did go and meet Keagan, didn't you." 

A far away look came over Jack's eyes. "Not that it was an option at the time, but, yes, I did." He gave a weak smile then continued. "I told him what was on my mind, given his stalking of Erin. Think I might have wanted to end it with 'Go to Hell' or something like that. 

"He was drunk. That doesn't mean a thing one way or the other. I think he was worse when he was drunk. He's the one responsible for this," Jack said pointing to the bruise. "Then again… I loathed the man, for what he did to me, but more so for even… I said some things, knew I was right in saying them even if I knew his response. I still told him off." 

"Did that help you?" 

Jack shrugged. "It did at the time. It almost got me killed, though, too. But, he turned the gun on himself, as if to ensure having the last word." 

"Where did this happen at, Jack?" 

"In Bronx Park, by the river." He subconsciously rubbed his wrists. The action didn't go unnoticed by Emil. 

"You said you were 'tied up' yesterday. Do you mean literally or figuratively?" 

"Does it make a difference?" 

Emil chose not to answer, wondering if the shared fear he and Huang had discussed might have indeed happened. 

"Anything I say stays here, right?" Emil nodded. "You promise not to have me committed based on what I might tell you?" 

Skoda straightened his back, curious as to what comments would lead to that conclusion. "Jack, what happened?" 

Jack folded his hands before him, resting his chin on the clasped hands. "I opened the door that night and invited the trouble in. I went willingly. I didn't struggle against the silk ties – he didn't want to cause me pain that way. I didn't call out for help. I didn't… I didn't even consider the consequences of…" 

"Listen to me, Jack. You're not the one who needs to be locked up. Mark Bruner and the other captor should be behind bars." 

Jack continued as if he didn't hear Skoda. "Do you know where Keagan was hiding all this time? In the alley behind his brother's shop, he said. He figured it was the best way to thumb his nose at both his brother and Fontana. I don't think I would have thought of that." 

"What about Bruner?" 

Jack shook his head. "I'm sure he's changed his appearance to bear very little resemblance to what everyone's looking for. He had an assortment of contact lenses, not that he needed them, but they were different colors. There were dental implants, too, removable. I can't recall the entire costume case collection, but… He's able to change his appearance." 

"There are some things that can't be changed, Jack." Skoda leaned forward and said sternly, "What about the sixth man?" 

"He hasn't changed," Jack said softly. "He's still The Protector." His eyes glazed over as Emil's frustration rose. "He's the one who found Adrian following Erin. He followed Adrian to find me, to protect…" Jack looked up at the clock. "I should go. Mr. Hans or Mrs. Richter will probably think something's wrong." 

"Jack," Skoda said, standing up with him, "I need you to do something for me." It was more of a command than a suggestion and Emil intended for Jack to follow through with it. "I need you to go to the police." 

He nodded, shook his head, and then asked, "Why?" 

--------

McCoy found himself sitting Anita Van Buren's office, not entirely dazed and confused, but feeling off balanced, nonetheless. "I don't know how much help that will be for you," he said. 

"It's a start, Jack. I suppose part of me figured there had to be changes made if we've not found him yet." She looked at the sketch in front of her. "I don't even want to know how high the number has jumped to in this last year because of him." 

"Neither do I," he said. 

Anita folded her hands before her and looked him in the eye. "Do you know that Adrian Keagan's body was found in Bronx Park? Initial reports say it was suicide." 

"Hmm." 

"That's it? Jack, this is the one guy who got off scot-free-." 

"I don't know what you want me to say, Anita. I guess I should feel relieved, or disappointed. Will you settle for stunned?" 

She studied him a bit longer. 'Stunned' might work for him. She knew Rubirosa's reaction was closer to ticked. Anita had yet to find out how Alex felt. "That's one threat down. Two more to find and we can finally put this behind us." 

"That would be nice," he said. "You don't need me to act like bait or anything, do you?" The long-absent, tongue-in-cheek tone was reassuring for her. 

Playing along, she said with a shrug, "Oh, why not? Fontana's quite a fisherman." 

---------

Jack accepted Anita's invitation of a ride home. Before he knew it, plans were made for a family dinner Sunday evening at her house. How and when he agreed, he couldn't quite remember as he walked up the stairs to the apartment. 

"Johnny! Where have you been?!" 

Jack jumped, despite himself. "Mrs. Richter, I-." 

"Do you know how long your daughter has been sitting here sick with worry? I know you weren't home yesterday! Mr. Hans took your paper!" 

She advanced towards him, using her knitting needles as pointers. At the rate she was going, Jack was fearful of losing an eye. "Mrs. Richter," he said holding his hands up to protect himself, just in case, "if you'll excuse me, please?" He ushered Anita into the apartment before entering. 

He no sooner escaped one irate person than walk directly into another. "Danielle. What are you doing here?" 

Anita chuckled quietly to herself as she patted Jack's shoulder. "Erin, I'll see you guys Sunday for supper, all right? G'night, Jack." To Danielle, she said, "Now don't make me come back here responding to a homicide charge, you hear me?" With that, she left; all in the apartment could hear Mrs. Richter and Mr. Hans arguing loud and clear during the brief time the door opened and closed. 

"And you have the nerve to ask me why I'm here, Jack. Honestly, you of all people… You can't settle for just having a quiet life, can you? No, you've started World War Three out there on your landing and I'm sure the children upstairs _and_ downstairs will want to join in on the fun." 

"Do I get a blindfold before I'm placed in front of the firing squad?" he asked, falling into the chair. 

"If I have to see the shot coming, so do you." 

Jack turned toward the kitchen. "Lennie? What is this? Gang up on me or something?" 

"Or something," Lennie said, bringing in a chair from the kitchen. "See, you missed the gang a couple of hours ago. Believe me; the guys would have loved to stick around to let you have it, too. But, they trust me to give you the abridged berating, instead." 

"I suppose I deserve it," Jack said, accepting a plate from Lennie. "Erin-." 

Danielle spoke up, as close to livid as he had ever seen her since… Not long enough, he decided. "Have you no shame, Jack?! So help me, we are going to see to it that you're packed up and out of here tonight if you want us to." 

"Dad," Erin said, holding a hand up to silence Danielle, "Mom says you owe her a call. Now." 

Jack brought a hand down over his face. "Is there anything else before I tell Lennie where the will is at?" 

The other man chuckled. "Truthfully, we're glad you made it all right. When I heard where they found Keagan, I was a bit worried." 

"A bit worried?" Jack repeated. "Lennie-." 

Briscoe continued, "Yeah, only a bit, because those two," he pointed to the women, "held on to the majority of the share of it. I'm just here to make certain the guys don't have to find another body." 

"I see," Jack said nodding. "This isn't about protection or surveillance or anything." 

"Nope. Just doing my part to keep Anita's paperwork down." He took something out of his pocket. "When you're done talking to your ex, here are some other folks who are expecting calls from you." 

Jack looked over the list. "Most of these people know I don't have a phone. What were they thinking?" 

"They were thinking," Danielle started, ready for round two, "about giving you hell as they ask you what _you_ were thinking giving us all grief! And for your information, I claim the couch tonight." 

Jack bobbed his head in defeat. "So, I take it I'm under house arrest?" 

"Eh," Lennie said, "at least you have decent cell-mates." 

"Excuse me?" Erin said as she got up to go into the other room 

"Make that singular, Jack," Lennie amended. Glancing from one woman to the other, he added, "Make that me." 

"Exactly," she said. "Dad, can I have a word with you." 

Jack recognized the commanding tone in her voice – too much like her mother's at that moment. He'd let that slide as he followed her into the bedroom. "Denying me witnesses, I see," he said closing the door, but not entirely. 

Erin's hand flew up so quickly, it surprised them both as she slapped her father. Jack put a hand to his cheek, in awe of the strength behind the swing. "I- I'm sorry, Dad!" 

Jack pulled her into an embrace. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking about what I was putting you through. I'm sorry." He held on to his little girl as the tears flowed silently down her face, steadily soaking through his shirt. He didn't bother wiping away the tears on his own face. 


	10. Juxtposition

Chapter 10 – Juxtaposition

Pulling a few strings, Emil Skoda had finally accessed the complete file from the facility and read the reports. How the assigned therapist missed the red flags was beyond him. He had just finished reading it when his early morning appointment arrived.

Ordinarily, he wouldn't have set up a meeting like this. But given who phoned him at home, Emil wasn't going to let the opportunity pass. Besides, with his wife gone to her mother's, what she didn't know wouldn't hurt him. "Good morning," he said. "What prompted this?" Skoda asked letting his visitor in. "Not saying I'm against more frequent meetings, but last time, I got the impression you were regressing."

"Good morning to you, too. Let's just say… I had some sense knocked into me," Jack said taking Emil's suggestion of having a seat in the home office.

Emil poured each of them a cup of coffee, all the while taking in Jack's haggard appearance. "Don't tell me you were up early enough to take that many busses to get here," Emil joked.

"No. Lennie drove me here – literally." He accepted the cup. "Erin drove me here figuratively. Finally."

"Shall we try this again, then?" Skoda asked his patient. "What happened?"

"Where would you like me to start?"

"The beginning."

Jack sighed. "Beginning with the night in question, or the 'beginning' beginning?"

"Your choice," Skoda said, offering Jack a little bit of control.

Jack wrapped his hands around the coffee cup. "Erin. I can't… I wasn't telling you the truth the other day."

"I'm glad to hear you say that. So, what is the accurate account?" Emil leaned back as Jack leaned forward.

"Last night…Erin… I didn't sleep last night, this morning, take your pick. I held on to my daughter, my precious daughter and it hit me…after she did, but that's another story… I had _my daughter_ in my arms and here I'm going into work to cover for someone who lost theirs.

"How could I look into her eyes and admit to her that her earlier accusation was right? I mean, I saw Erin, I see Erin, yet I didn't, I don't. Last night, it was a struggle to hold on – literally and mentally. She didn't let go. And part of me has been denying the fact that that's something I've wanted to do so many times since..."

"Why is that, do you think?"

Jack shook his head. "I've been so determined to focus on what's in front of me, ignoring, or trying to, the nightmares that hit me every night. Part of me is thankful that Erin's here, that Danielle has spent a couple of nights, because that was – they were – my excuse or lie that I wouldn't breakdown at least for that night. If they were close by, I could forestall the fears for another time, or so I kept telling myself.

"Yet, I so wanted to be alone again to suffer in peace without troubling anyone around me. I don't know if any of that makes sense, but. The night I had the place to myself, I was ready to let go completely. I was going to finish a routine I found comfort in, then just…

"Paul came to the door. I don't know what I was trying to prove with the false bravado, but… The moment he spoke, I felt as if I fell into the familiar. I let that smooth, soothing voice give me commands and I obeyed. I didn't resist when he drove me to the park; when he tied my hands behind my back – with silk ties because he didn't want to harm me unnecessarily; when he took me to give me further instruction. Not once."

Jack got up to pace about the room. "Keagan… I don't know if the fury I felt was because I was mad at myself for the stupid as hell choice I was making, or the fact that he dared follow my daughter. I knew Keagan was out there. He stood outside my door once, when I was watching the children."

"Why didn't you tell the police about Keagan?"

Jack took a drink before answering. "I was tired - tired of feeling and appearing weak. That and I foolish thought I could handle it on my own. That was about the time I asked you to help me with a confrontation - that dim-witted notion of having some sort of control.

"But, the odd, absurd thing about it all…I knew Paul knew about Keagan. He, Paul, left me a note while I was out to dinner with my daughter. It read _'She's safe.'_ It was after I received the photos. There would have been only two people interested in shooting Keagan following Erin – Bruner and Paul. Bruner didn't directly threaten my daughter, but knowing who he is... Paul never threatened anyone." He sat back down. "So, you might see how my warped logic worked."

"And you still didn't go to the police."

Jack gave a guilty smile. "I did - about the photos - because Erin was threatened. I don't know… I've seen him, still the Protector, a couple of times, or at least I thought I saw him. Part of me dismissed it as anxiety or hallucinations. When the first note arrived, I knew who it came from, yet convinced myself that it was Bruner or Keagan."

"What happened when you gave Lt. Van Buren the descriptions I asked you to?"

This time, Jack's eyes glanced about the floor before answering. "I only gave her Bruner's."

Somehow, it didn't completely surprise Skoda. "Why?"

"It was the more crucial of the two, that's why." He got up again and paced about the room. "I know what I mentioned about Paul, during those sessions. I don't know who was more convinced of some of the things I said, the doctor or me."

Skoda said, "The doctor. Given what he wrote in his logs, he included, and I quote, 'This figure named Paul appears to be more of a wanted, imaginary guardian angel than a real, threatening individual.' I'd say your persuasive skills of debate are still strong, wouldn't you?"

Jack shrugged. "Maybe I was so busy trying to convince the doctor that I believed it, too. To admit otherwise would mean exposing the falsehood…"

"When Keagan found you or when the photos came to light, why didn't you move to a safer location, then, Jack? Why did you insist on staying home?"

"Stupidity, stubbornness, false sense of strength; pick one. For the first time in over a year, I had a place I could call home, could claim as my own – my own space, my own routines, etc. Erin took it better than Danielle about how little I moved in and what I sold from the storage unit. I could suffer insomnia and nightmares in peace and not worry about disturbing anyone."

"What about your neighbors?"

Again, he shrugged. "It's nice to feel as if I'm contributing something for a change versus taking. I hate how weak I was the last time and swore I wouldn't do that again." He sat back down again. "Do you want the whole confession or wait until next appointment for the rest of the story?"

Skoda accepted the fact that this was indeed Jack talking and not a false front this time. "What do you say to meeting Monday morning?"

Jack nodded. "I could do that." He looked Skoda in the eye and asked, "Does it happen often, a patient conning a therapist and/or themselves?"

Emil nodded. "Sad to say, there are some patients, or people, who are so good with their façade they could fool just about anybody. And then there are some doctors, like the one you were assigned, I'm afraid, who aren't as knowledgeable as they should be." Emil got up, noting the time. "You're still going into work, then?"

"It's better to keep busy than staying idle, right? Besides, it's only a double shift; longer since I owe someone a couple of hours for covering for me." He shook Emil's hand. "Thanks."

"Any time," he said. Emil looked out the window. "Where's Lennie?"

"Finding me a token of forgiveness for a co-worker. He-." Just then a car pulled up. "He's an amazing friend."

"That he is," Skoda agreed. "In the meantime, what are you going to do about Paul? Are you going to give the police a description this time?" He opened the door while awaiting an answer.

"I'll let you know Monday," Jack said as he was walking towards Lennie's car.

-------------------

Anita Van Buren set down a full plate in front of the last of her guest. It was nice to have a crowded table, she thought, enveloping herself in the warmth of this extended family. That didn't stop her from playing mother hen, however.

"When was the last time you had a proper dinner or a good night's sleep, Jack?"

He set his folded hands down and gave her a cagey smile. "Call it the hazards of working a double shift, Anita. Honestly, I won't sign up for any more 'three-in-a-row' on a weekend if I can help it."

Anita shook her head. "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear you were trying to make up lost time from another job – even if the pay is less."

"This should be the only hectic time. The director is on leave for a full week, no exceptions." Jack paused. "I'd be amazed if he didn't come back. Seriously, the job is in his blood; he lives and breathes it like no one else."

Erin glanced nervously at her father. "There was a time you did that, too."

Lennie spoke up, "Yes, but at some point, some of us realize there is a time to walk away from it and do something different."

The look of relief between the guys didn't go unnoticed by Anita. She changed subjects. "You know, some of the guys at the precinct are trying to put together a softball team – make it open to all current and former cops, you know. Word has it that Branch has assigned Connie the task of putting together a similar team. I'll bet neither of you guys would waste your time or the risk of broken bones on something like that, now would you."

"No," Jack and Lennie said in unison.

She smiled to herself, setting up for the 'next pitch.' "Yeah. Our boys here bragged about how they could out-hit not only their parents, but you two, as well."

Don knew enough to continue the setup. "I reminded them how easily I could take them out of this world; forget a ball outta the park. But, they seem to think that they'd beat the four of us because 'kids are cooler than parents.'" He looked at Erin and asked, "Do you believe that? And before you answer, keep in mind, they counted you as their teammate."

Anita knew she loved McCoy's kid just based on that same, sly grin she gave in her response. "But of course."

By dinner's end, the field game was replaced by video games in the other room while the grown-ups kept to the table.

"I know I promised no shop talk," Anita said, "but the description combinations you gave us for Bruner may have produced a useful tip or two. A couple of calls to the tip lines gave us some possible places to check out."

"That was fast," Lennie said. "How many calls are from bottom feeders, though?"

Anita shrugged. "I'm keeping my fingers crossed. The worst thing that happens is that we've knocked on the wrong door, giving someone an unnecessary headache."

----------

"You didn't! Will wonders never cease," Nina Cassady said as they took their usual seats on the bench, watching the morning foot traffic go by. "So, what was it like?"

Alex shrugged. "It wasn't what I expected, in a good way. I don't know, Nina. If he wasn't married…"

Nina furrowed her brow. "Who did you say you're seeing?"

"I didn't. Never mind. So, it's official that Keagan's death is suicide?"

Nina shook her head, annoyed by the avoidance and the news. "The gun powder residue isn't exactly matching up. But, Logan did say they may have found a couple of witnesses, some kids out late at night."

"What did they say?"

"They might have seen two people there under the bridge, but that the other guy was hard to see. 'Average' was the best word they could come up to describe him. Keagan's blood alcohol was well above the legal limit, but his aim was decent. Rodgers thinks he might have had help."

Alex took it in. "Well, we might lose the Weaver case because it's hard to say who did what and who was helping whom. Connie isn't taking it well."

Nina collected the refuge between them. "Task Force might have a good lead on Bruner this time. I'll give you a call the moment it's good news. Have you heard from Jack yet?"

"No. I'm wondering if I did anything wrong, you know? Am I inadvertently bringing back memories for him or something like that?"

"You worry about the wrong things, Alex," Nina said. "I'm going to have to back out of lunch today, too, I'm afraid. Joe and I are set to work a double along with Logan and Green. You should give Jack a call and invite him to take my spot. I don't like the idea of you eating solo."

"When did you become my big sister? I'll just change plans and-."

"No, you're keeping the plans and just changing partners. I better get going. Knowing Joe, the moment I get there it will be nonstop until this time tomorrow."

"You're insane," Alex said.

"You know that," Nina countered, "because we're alike."

--------

"They're nothing alike," Jack said to Skoda as he sat in the psychiatrist's office that morning.

"Are you sure? One used words promising harm, or worse, death. The other used words and deeds of kindness." Emil said. "How is that not a tether, Jack? You say you've broken through two of the conditions, but you're not facing the fact you're held by the other two."

Jack shook his head. "That isn't what I said. I know I'm not isolated. I know I'm free. Do I fear Bruner still? I'd be an idiot not to."

"So, did you give up the description? Or are you going to let Paul's alleged kindness be your excuse again?"

"I gave Van Buren the information, all right? I don't know. He killed Keagan to keep my daughter safe. I feel…"

"You don't owe him anything, Jack. Paul is as guilty as the others. If they catch Bruner, what will that do for you?"

He shrugged. "Who knows? It might give me the justification I need to be allowed to stay here."

The comment amused Emil. "Why would you need to justify it?"

"Maybe it's the residual lawyer in me looking for evidence. Maybe I'm afraid of what I'm giving up if I go." He pondered his reasons. "It's enjoyable spending time with Meagan's kids. I like the time I spend with my charges at the center. Patel, Katya and Cam – to name a few – have taught me so much I feel that I owe it to them to do my best to teach them."

"Are you going to touch base with some of your other friends, or are you looking at severing those ties? You learned some things from Arthur, Alex and Elizabeth, too."

Jack shook his head. "I don't know. I mean, I know that and yet… Maybe after Bruner's caught."

"What if that's never?"

"Never say never, isn't that the saying?"

"Right now," Emil said, "you're making an excuse. After the other morning, I would have thought you would have been done with that."

"All right. Truth? I don't want to go anywhere near that courthouse. I don't want to even deal with a hint of the possibility that I might… I can call Elizabeth. There are enough things in common that I could take comfort in that, and she'd be a definite change from Danielle."

"So, you are looking to hold on to some of your earlier relationships?"

Jack agreed. "I suppose, then again, not really. Danielle and I…We joke about it, but I know there's no way I'd marry her. A relationship with her is right up there with everyone, everything else – not very likely." He leaned back as if already exhausted. "I feel as if I know less now than when we started. And I'm supposed to offer counsel to a young man who wants to walk away from what he's pursued for a while."

"Do you see yourself in this young man?"

"He loves law; he loves teens. But after the Winslows were found murdered… He doesn't know how he could be a defense attorney."

"You have experience of the other side of the aisle."

"I also know he'd be one of the good guys, Emil. Do I warn Robinette of his apprentice's wavering and encourage him to help strengthen Spencer's resolve? Do I call Arthur and see if he might know of a place for him on the other side? Or do I let him do what he decides in the end?" Jack noted the look on Skoda's face. "What is it?"

"Nothing." Emil kept the smile thin, then nonexistent. "I'm just wondering how long it will take you to see the similarity in there, that's all."

-----------------------

"I'd say that's an awfully damn likeness," Logan said handing the picture back to his partner as he watched the house across the street. Very little traffic for this late in the evening made it all the easier, Mike thought. "Do you want to place a bet now or later?"

Ed Green kept his eye on the house also. "No. I need the money for Atlantic City this weekend." He knew in his gut that the guy they watched going inside was their man. It had to be. Bruner was burned into Green's brain and there was nothing more that Ed wanted than to burn the man in return. "What murders do we really have on him, from the Bronx area, I mean?"

Mike shook his head. "A total bust on that. Benson called and said that Bruner's M.O. matches three for certain on their side." He turned towards Green. "Hey, Ed, are you surprised that McCoy finally gave up the last guy?"

Ed kept his focus on the guy inside. "Sort of, yeah. I'd be mad at him for taking so long with Bruner, too, but I can't. I mean, would you have thought about a case full of disguise equipment this late in the search?"

Mike agreed. "Well, for all any of us knew, Bruner wasn't that vain. Even you said, based on the look of his last place that-."

"There he is!" Green said, making to open the car door. Logan put a restraining arm on his.

"We're not doing this without backup, pal." He made the call. As soon as one of the other unmarked cars pulled up, Logan and Green made their move.

--------

"Thanks," Borgia said then hung up her cell phone. "You wouldn't believe what just happened!" Her companion waited for her to share. "They caught Bruner!"

He nodded. "Good news then."

"That's it? Jack, they finally caught the worst of your captors and…" She turned away, embarrassed and ashamed. "I'm sorry. That was…"

He gave her a faint smile. "Don't apologize. It's a relief, really, even if I'm not showing it properly."

Alex released the tension she didn't know she held on to. Part of her didn't want to go through with asking Jack out for lunch. When he called, inviting her to dinner after he got off work, however… "I can't tell you what this means to me," she said, uncertain if she was referring to the 'date' or the capture.

"I know I haven't been a good friend for you lately, not being there for you," he said. "I'm sorry."

She placed a hand over his. "No, don't…you don't owe me an apology." Alex didn't want to let go. Between the various cases – more loses than she or Connie really wanted to deal with, the flirting with temptation – something that if she had confided in Nina with would have resulted in…who knew what; and just the overall fatigue… She was thankful to have her friend back.

"All right," he said with a twinkle in his eye, "let's agree to no more apologies, at least for tonight. Deal?"

"Deal." She wanted to indulge in something, but didn't know what. "There are too many choices here," she said referring to the menu.

"What do you want," Jack asked, pulling his hand out from under hers, tapped it, and then pulled it back into his lap. "If you need help sharing anything, I'm game."

"Well, in that case…" That helped narrow down her options to one of the largest desserts listed on the specials. "No, I'm going to regret it in the morning." She felt his hand over hers again.

"Order it. No regrets allowed, not tonight. Think of it as a…celebratory treat, for both of us." He leaned forward and added, "Besides, I get the feeling there's more on your mind than you're letting on. I believe that I owe you…whatever time you need from me tonight to sound off and vent or just talk."

Alex felt her eyes water up. She turned her head to quickly dab her eyes with the napkin at hand. "This is silly." Looking back at Jack, she saw the sincerity in his face. "Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't, Alex," he said. "Besides, I don't think my chaperone will mind, time-wise, I mean," he said gesturing to a table on the other side of the all-night diner where Erin and Spencer sat.

"Oh, Jack," she said unable to keep it in any longer. Quietly crying, she felt his arm over her shoulder. She never felt so childish, so scared or so relieved.

---------------------------

Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler joined the others on the other side of the viewing glass of the interrogation room with Van Buren. There were questions they wanted answers to and entrusted Munch and Logan to get them.

"What I don't understand is why is he playing us the same way he did last time?" Green said to Van Buren.

"We're searching his place as we speak, Ed. We convicted him once, we'll do it again."

Elliot shook his head. "And you say the last time he killed fifteen girls?"

Ed turned to him. "But we could only charge him for two then. If it wasn't for Alex or Schwimmer last year, we wouldn't have found those bodies."

"So," Olivia said, mentally adding up the numbers, "his total, that any of us are aware of, is somewhere in the…forties. My goodness." Before Ed or Anita could ask, she added, "That's with the ones we were able to assign as his."

"I want to be there when they put the needle in him this time," Anita said.

Elliot shook his head. "Forget the needle. Just put him in a room with all of those angry parents. I'd call that justice.


	11. Jarred

Chapter 11 –Jarred

"I'll ask you again," Mike Logan said putting all of his weight on the back of the chair as he leaned over the suspect's shoulder, "what did you do with them?"

Rather than answer the question, Mark Bruner engaged in a staring contest with the other officer sitting across from him. "Isn't this interesting," he said, never changing his monotone. "Where, oh where is Ed?"

Despite himself, Mike backed off a bit, awed that his partner's name, a mere two letters, could come across in such a…slimy fashion.

John Munch stared back, calm, stone-faced and said, "We'll tell you after you tell us. We have three of your victims."

"You do? Fascinating, considering I didn't leave anyone out and about this time because, you see, I learned my lesson from Sally and Holly."

Logan was about to ask about them when Munch continued the questioning. "What I don't get, is, what were you hoping to gain during this time? It couldn't have been more prison time, because you're set for life, right?"

Bruner leaned forward. "If I were set for life, I'd have McCoy to thank, wouldn't I. How is the demented D.A., anyway?"

Logan picked up the back of the chair and slammed it down again. "We're focusing on the girls you murdered, you sick son-of-a-."

"You know nothing of my mother," Bruner said, his tone never changing, "so I suggest you refrain from labeling her, if I were you. If I'm sick, does that mean McCoy is well?" Bruner's snickering grated Logan's nerves. Impressively, Munch didn't flinch.

"You seem to forget that we have you on kidnapping charges, and of an officer of the court, no less," Munch said. "We tend to deal out a slightly harsher sentence for that because we take something like that personally. It almost ranks up there with killing a cop."

"But I didn't kill a cop, now did I, unless I'm lucky enough to have driven poor Ed into having a heart attack. Do you think I'm that lucky, John?"

Logan looked up to see Munch's reaction to the similarly spat out name. Munch smiled back.

"I think you're lucky enough to have gotten as close as you wanted to McCoy to try and give him one. What happened? Going for him directly proved to be too hard for you, too challenging?"

Bruner frowned. "Is he the one you claim I kidnapped? I would have killed him if I knew where to find him; but not until after I fulfilled my promise."

"Oh," Mike asked, "what promise was that?"

Bruner looked over his shoulder and whispered, "He knows."

"Well, you know what?" Munch said pushing himself up out of the chair, "you've run out of time regardless. I'm sure the guys at Rikers would be more than happy to welcome you back."

"Will they now? Fine. Would you give a message to McCoy for me?"

"And why would we do that?" Logan asked, moving to join Munch by the door.

The soulless eyes disguised by colored contacts stared at both men, as with a deep, menacing voice, he said, "Time's up."

------

"It's almost time, Jack. Is there anything else you want to talk about? Bruner's capture, maybe?"

Jack shook his head. "I'm still stunned, if that's a stupid thing to say. I feel as if I can finally go forward and yet feel this need to continually look over my shoulder."

"What do you think he meant when he said 'Time's up?' Was that meant as a warning or something?"

At this, Jack closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe slowly. "Those were the last words he told me before the fire broke out. I thought he was going to leave me to die there. What I remember of that day was the fact that Drake and Paul had argued about Bruner's final order, something I didn't hear. Marolf had his own intentions; Barnes and Keagan, their own skins to protect. In the end, I just convinced myself that it meant I didn't stand a chance in even attempting to learn anymore victims' names; that they'd pick up where they left off. In a way, they had, didn't they?"

"You're not responsible for the murderers' actions." Emil switched topics. "Why are you holding yourself responsible for what's going on with Alex now?"

"Maybe if I hadn't been so selfish, I might have been able to help her sooner. She counted on me as a mentor, a friend. I failed her in her time of need."

"What about Spencer?"

Jack shifted in his chair. "I called Arthur and suggested he look at 'rescuing' two former prosecutors and lay claim to two promising ones. He laughed, of course, but..."

"But?"

"But, I was surprised he did call Jessica Sheets and make an offer. I learned of that through Robinette, who, in not-so-kind words informed me that 'poaching his people' was improper and that payback would ensue if I tried it again. That followed by a 'thanks for the heads up' about Spencer."

Emil nodded. "Is there anyone else you're trying to take responsibility for?"

Jack acknowledged the direction Skoda was taking the discussion. "I've done my part about Paul. I'd be lying if I didn't say I'm _not_ looking forward to facing Bruner in court, if the time comes. As for Keagan…"

"You still haven't gone to the police yet?"

"I talked to Lennie first. He doesn't think it would be wise now, since they've officially ruled it a suicide."

Emil was surprised. "You're all right with this?"

"I don't know. Does it make sense to conflict with an official report given whom it's about?"

Emil shook his head, not answering. "You tell me next time. For now, I want you to do something I've not asked you to do and probably should have."

"Based on your tone, I'm guessing it's something you don't really care for, Doctor."'

"I don't. But, I'm going to have you do it anyway." Skoda handed him a composition book. "I want you to start keeping a journal. You don't necessarily have to share it with me unless you see a definite need to. But, I want you to write in it daily, understand?" Jack eyed the journal, wearily.

"I mean it, Jack. What's on those pages in black and white might jar you at first, but, you need the evidence there in front of you to keep you focused on what _you_ need to do for _yourself._ So, until next appointment."

-------

"Your doctor called rescheduling your appointment," Connie said handing Alex the message slip. "I keep telling you to take some time off. Don't make me force you," she said.

"Or what? You'd be looking at another case like Jack's?"

Rubirosa looked at her assistant, eyebrows raised. "Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry. Am I speaking before thinking again? Won't happen again, honest."

Connie shook her head. "I'll let the comment slide today, but seriously, Alex, you need to pull yourself together. If I can't count on you to help me prep these cases for some solid wins, then…" She motioned Alex to have a seat on the couch while Connie closed the door. "Out with it, Alex."

"With what? I'm sorry, all right? Our win column hasn't been the best it could be and-."

"This isn't all about wins or losses, Alex. This is about how you've lost your bearings and what I can do to try and help put you back on course. I'm not supposed to tell you this, but Arthur's looking at dismissing some folks around here, and you and I are on the short list."

"As in we stand a chance of remaining?"

Connie shook her head. "As in I have no intention of giving Novak a reason to want to move in here. I know I'm just as much to blame for some of the hits we've taken lately, but… Alex it's as if you're here and not here at the same time. Do you get what I'm saying?"

Borgia sighed. "If I had a dime for every time someone's said that to me in the last month alone…"

"You're not looking at going back to Boston, are you?"

Alex looked at her, surprised. "Oh no! No, I'm just… I'll do better, honest. I know we can win the Archer case. And I'll have the witnesses prepared, really. As for the Winslow-," She rummaged through her carrying case, surprised to find something. "Is that where my earring went? Huh."

"Slow down," Rubirosa said. "I'm just saying that now's the time to be calm and focused. I know we can do this. I'm just reminding you that you can, too."

----------

"You're kidding, right?" Dennis Zamora said once they concluded their post-meeting chat on the basketball court. "That was what it was about?"

Jack nodded as he drank from his bottle of water. "They sounded so absurd at the time, it was all I could do to just shake my head and walk away. I would have said something to you, but figured you knew and dismissed it, too."

"Or that I didn't want to hear that my daughter was crazier than her mother and I already thought she was?" Dennis finished locking up the various doors in the gym. "So it was your kid who saw what they were about, huh?"

"She called my attention to it," Jack said, "when she commented on how tired she was seeing me in the same slacks and how pathetic my shirt selection has become." He handed Dennis' coat to him. "I don't know. My only regret is that her killer didn't get his day in court for a proper verdict."

"What could be better than death? So, you're set for the rest of the week, right? I mean, I've been asking a lot of you during… Think I spooked that one detective when I said I wanted to kill you. Kind of glad that was trauma talking." Dennis said.

"Agreed and understandable. Have you heard from Sylvia lately?"

Dennis shook his head. "She told me she'd be gone for at least three weeks. Why? Did she tell you something different?"

"No, she didn't tell me anything."

-------------

"You could at least tell me if you're going to be out late!"

Jack pulled the phone away from his ear, a bemused Lennie looking on. He took a breath before bringing the cell phone to his ear. "I'm sorry, Erin. Meetings tend to run longer than planned, you know that. I'm glad you made it home all right. You are at home, right?"

"You're home now, too, right?" Erin challenged.

"Yes. What proof would you like of that?" Jack turned to see Lennie mouth 'Bad idea! Bad idea!'

There was silence on the other end. "Dad, promise me you'll get a land line."

He turned to his friend and mouthed, 'Land line?'

"Caller I.D.," Lennie whispered.

"Tell him I heard that," Erin said. "I know I didn't get you a cheap phone, Dad."

Jack mouthed, 'Trouble.' "All right, dear, I'll call for a land line first thing tomorrow and I'll call you from said phone line the moment it's installed. Anything else I'm missing from my probation?"

"Dad, you better be careful because you don't want me to turn around and help you pack, do you?"

Jack smiled. "What if I said yes?"

"Good night, Dad."

"Good night, dear." He hung up the phone and asked, "Lennie, is this what our parents meant when they wished us payback?"

"But of course," Lennie said, dealing the next round of cards for the poker game. "You guys can come out of the kitchen now. Interstate interrogation's finished."

Mike laughed as he turned his chair around to sit down. "Man, maybe being in a room with Bruner wasn't so bad."

"Who the hell do you think you're kiddin'?" Ed asked, irritated first by the joke then by the cards in his hand. "I owe you-."

"You owe us big time," Munch said raising the bet right off the bat. "He knows we can't charge him with anything but the three murders."

"Six," Elliot said, folding almost immediately. "The guys out in the 64th were able to make a definite match."

"You mean nine," Fontana said, matching Munch's bet. "The guys in District 22 found some young women in the tunnels who very well may fit the M.O, too."

"Who cares what the number is," Mike said, "so long as he doesn't see the light of day again."

"Amen," Ed said. The others, except Jack, vocalized their agreement. "Hey, Jack, you seem a bit quiet. What's wrong?"

Jack dismissed the question as he pondered the cards in his hand, then folded. "Mike, you're sure that Jessica and Serena are all right?"

"I assigned them detail myself," Logan said. "There's no way that creep is getting close to one of our own." He looked at Joe as he doubled the bet and said, "You're going down."

"You taking up law now, Mike?" Lennie asked. "Nah, I know what you mean. Jack, relax. With what physical evidence the guys have found and the fact that he's already on death row, there's no way he'll get to you."

John nodded. "He doesn't strike me as the kind of guy savvy enough to make connections to organize a hit list for enemies on the outs."

Joe added, "Besides, if he thinks he can intimidate you, just remember, you've beat him once, you've beat him twice."

"And third time's the charm," Elliot said.

---------------

"Third time's a charm, Ms. Borgia," Dr. Stillman said as he as the last needle pierced her skin.

She hadn't felt this relaxed since her last visit. As much as she had hoped her dinner with Jack would ease some things, it only made a few things worse. "Mm-hmm," she murmured, hoping she didn't sound like an idiot the way she had regularly in front of Connie or worse, Arthur.

"Let go," he whispered. "You're safe."

She did, telling herself again that she'd follow anything he said. "Mm-hmm," she repeated.

"That's better," he said.

After her appointment of bliss, Alex drove home, not entirely aware of what all had transpired.

-----------

Logan looked at the witness reports in one hand and the sketch in the other. "It doesn't feel right."

"What doesn't?" Green asked, adding more files to his stack on the desk. "Come on, the Jones case is-."

"It isn't the Jones case that's getting me, Ed. It's the Keagan deal." Off of Ed's look, he said, "Rodgers might not have been wrong in her findings."

"Oh, so M.E.s are error-free now, are they? Rodgers said it was a slight possibility, all right? But, Keagan's fingerprints were dead-on, so…"

"Something's not adding up for me here at the moment, all right? If the kids say they saw someone, then, why haven't we found him?"

"Looks like you have someone in mind. Why him?" Ed took the sketch from Mike and studied it, not seeing the connection.

"It's bugging me, all right? There's a reason why Cassady has an uneasily feeling about her guy. I'm looking at McCoy's description here and wondering… Don't you dare tell me I'm jumping to conclusions here."

Ed shook his head. "I wasn't going to. How did your kids describe him, average? Does he look like he fits the bill to you?" He handed it back, wondering if it was worth mentioning that a photo array would be better.

Mike put the sketch on top of the reports. "There's one way to find out."

This time, Ed let out a low whistle. "You better come up with a darn good reason why you're going to do it. If you're wrong, there's a chance he'll see this as harassment."

"Not if he's interested in doing his civic duty, he won't," Mike countered.

Nina Cassady walked by the guys when the sketch caught her attention. "McCoy finally gave it up?"

"Yeah," Mike said nodding. "What, you haven't seen this yet?"

She picked it up for a closer look. "What if I said maybe?"

----------

"I dare say," Donall Stillman said as he let Detective Logan into his house that evening, "that I thought moving out here would cut down dealing with crime, delinquents and visits from officers." He smiled. "I guess I was wrong."

"I guess so," Logan said having a seat. "Look, I'm sorry for troubling you like this, I mean I would have called, but, were you, by chance, anywhere around Bronx Park, say, a few weeks ago?"

Donall thought back. "Can't say that I've even been to the Bronx, Detective. My office is on the other side of town. Why, may I ask?"

"Oh, we're just trying to track down some potential witnesses; that's all. Someone possibly fitting your description was said to have driven by, and I thought… I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. You're doing your job. Tell me, how did Maggie get herself tangled up in that Jones mess?"

Logan shrugged. "Money, I'm afraid. She took a bribe to let someone have access to a patient's files. She'll probably lose her license."

Donall shook his head. "What a shame. She was a great person to work with." He leaned forward curious, "Who is the other case about that I supposedly witnessed?"

Removing a photo from his inside jacket, Logan handed it to the doctor. "Adrian Keagan. Have you seen or heard of him?"

Donall's face was expressionless as he studied the photo. "Is this the person the papers say was responsible for those murders in the Bronx? It makes you wonder what would drive someone to do such a thing."

"It does," Logan said. "Hey, again, I'm sorry for troubling you like this. Hopefully this will be the last time I bother you."

"It's no bother at all," Stillman said as he led Logan out.

Taking his time, Mike surveyed the rest of the house from the car, taking in the two-stories, the attached garage and what he assumed to be a basement, if his guess about the various doors in the main room were an indicator. He didn't want to admit it, but he was beginning to agree with Nina. Something about Stillman didn't sit right with him.

----------------

Munch leaned forward and looked his visitor in the eye. "Who is to say you're not right?"

Joe shook his head, opting to finish his ale first. "I'm just trying to figure out why it is that Cassady's determined to find something that isn't there, that's all."

"But, what if that whole woman's intuition is right and there is something there? It might not hurt if they look around. Better them than bringing in someone new."

"I don't know, John. Two monsters have fallen and I just don't want us rushing the wrong guy saying he's the third man."

"Speaking of the diabolical trio, care to join me as we keep Rubirosa company? She's supposed to go see Bruner tomorrow and Branch said there's no way in hell she's going alone."

"What's wrong with Borgia?"

John shrugged. "Something about her calling in sick. Even then, I _know_ I wouldn't want her going in there."

"Yeah, Mike told me how your guys' second interview went with him, and your third. What are trying to prove, John?"

"I want to prove to that sick psycho that he isn't going to win this time. At some point, he'll want to talk and I want him to know that I'll be all ears."

---------------------

Jack admitted defeat to Trisha and Trevor as their mother looked on, waiting. "That does it. I guess I don't know these Harry Potter questions as well as you do."

"Well," Trevor said, "what book are you on?"

"Which one's the prisoner one?" Jack asked, picking up the snacks and homemade game cards.

Trevor shook his head in disappointment. "Well, at least you started them I guess. You better have the next one done before we play this again, because this was sad."

Jack bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. "I'll have a book report ready for you by next Friday, will that work?"

"Mac," Meagan said, ushering her children out the door then sending them down the stairs, "I'm glad you're sticking around. What would we do without you?"

"Maybe subject Merle or Greer with the book reports?" he suggested with a wink.

Meagan shook her head laughing. "No, their payback would be finding me another husband. Have a good night, Mac."

Both adults heard Trisha cry up the stairs. "Not another daughter! No! Your dad's staying here!"

Jack stepped out the door in time to see Alex come up the steps. To Trisha, he said, "Do you trust me to take care of this?" The youngster nodded. "Good. Now, be nice to your mother and remember what I told you earlier. Deal?" Again, she nodded, muttering under her breath as her brother dragged her by the hand.

"You know," Meagan said backing down the stairs, "I'd be really sad if you left." The children hollered from below. "I mean really, really sad, Mac."

"Come on in, Alex," Jack said, closing the door once she had. "How did you find me?"

"I asked Mike. I hope that's all right?"

"Of course," he said. They chatted for quite some time; Jack relieved that he wasn't on the defensive or finding himself in an awkward position for a change. Then she said something that jarred him completely.


	12. Justifications

Chapter 12 – Justifications

Jack looked at her, aware that his mouth was open, aware that his knuckles grew white from gripping the arm of the couch, aware that if he wasn't careful, he'd probably begin hyperventilating soon. He forced himself to remove the clenched hand and move it to her shoulder, promising himself that he would _gently _shake her. In a slow, measured voice he finally asked, "What did you say?"

Instead of answering, Alex kissed him on the lips, and then placed a hand to his cheek. He removed her hand, searching her eyes for some sort of explanation. "Alex?!" His voice didn't exactly shrill, but it sounded foreign to his ears just the same. Out of panic, he did the unthinkable. He tore the ring out of her hands, his nails cutting against her skin.

Alex had a baffled look on her face, looked around the room then focused again on Jack, all the while rubbing her hand. "What? Jack, what's wrong?"

He never heard her patronizing voice before. Then again, he never heard her… "What…did…you…say?" he repeated, finding it incredulous that she had no idea, and had yet to confront him about what happened.

She shook her head. "Jack, are you all right? Do you want me to call you a doctor?"

He bit his bottom lip, determined not to get angry or upset, or worse, snap back with a condescending remark of his own. "I need you to tell me something," he said, speaking in a soft voice, trying not to beg. "I need you to tell me how you knew about that. Please?"

Alex put a hand over his and looked at him with pitying eyes, her voice back to normal. "Are you sure you're feeling all right? You're looking so stressed, Jack."

He'd hold on, if for only a moment longer. "Maybe…Maybe it's time you should go home now. I ... I've work very early tomorrow morning and…" He prayed the lie sounded more real to her than it did to him. "Maybe you're right. I… Yeah. I'll wait with you…outside…until the cab…"

"Don't be silly." She smiled at him. "I'll be fine, really." She held his hand and rubbed it gently, still not acknowledging the scratches to her own. "You _are_ going to Arthur's dinner, right?"

He almost forgot the earlier invitation. "Y-yes," he said slowly. "I wouldn't miss it."

"Good. I'm glad," she said rising to go to the phone and then called a cab.

He remained where he was, trying his best to control the trembling, his mind reeling from what had happened, vaguely aware that she had already hung up the phone. To compound the turmoil, Alex leaned over and kissed him on the cheek before leaving.

Without another word, he watched his friend, now stranger, leave. He pocketed the ring he thought he'd never see again. Despite her earlier protests, he stepped outside, stood in the shadows and waited until the cab pulled away.

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

He jumped at the sound of Merle's voice. "You could give a guy a heart attack doing that, you know," Jack said softly, given the late hour.

"I could say the same of you, boy. What has you out here so late tonight?"

Jack leaned against the wall, trying to find his neighbor in the darkness, given the lack of moon, or working overhead lights. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

Merle chuckled. "I'm old; I get by on less sleep than you do." There was a pause. "Something's weighing down heavily to have you make that face. I've better eyesight than you, too."

Jack smiled, wondering if he was matching Merle's own. "Nothing like getting broadsided with something… startling that's all."

"Right," Merle said sagely. "Well, just remember what you're supposed to do in life. Challenge you to sleep on that." Jack's eyes finally focused on Merle's face just as the older man winked, accompanied by a click of the tongue. "Your turn," he said.

Jack decided to try it, just for something silly to do. Both men chuckled. "G'night, Merle." Feeling better for maybe a second, Jack went back inside, turned the locks, and then slid down the door onto the floor pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes, trying to blot out the images that Alex's words brought to the surface. He rocked back and forth during his struggle until he fell aside, exhausted.

-----------------------------

Logan leaned against the wall as Munch, Rubirosa, Bruner and a public defender sat around the table, Bruner reclining against the corner of the chair.

"This is interesting indeed," Bruner said, smiling to all of those around. "I don't remember having so many visitors last time." He locked eyes with Rubirosa. "You're not quite as pretty as Jessica or Serena, but you are pretty none the less."

"You're not judging a beauty contest, Mr. Bruner. We're here because you said you had information for us." Rubirosa said. "Either you're supporting your claim with facts or we're done wasting our time."

Bruner folded his arms and leaned against the table, his head swayed from side to side. "So, you want to ignore the niceties. Tsk, tsk. If Jack were here, you'd mind your manners. Then again, maybe it's the manner of which your mind works - nice to ignore things."

Munch slapped his hand down on the table. "See, what did I tell you, Mike? He's gutless. All air, no action, that's what Mark is."

Bruner sighed. "What is it with you guys trying to play tough? Jack learned the truth." He turned to look Rubirosa in the eye. "He learned the truth quickly enough."

"And what truth was that?" Logan asked. "How twisted your mind works?"

Narrowing his eyes, Bruner looked from Logan to Munch then to Rubirosa. "I have nothing to say…until Jack comes here to say hello."

"I have no intention of bringing an outsider to you for your little mind games, Mr. Bruner," Rubirosa said. "Since none of us here have time for play…Gentlemen?"

As they got up to leave, Bruner called out, "John. I'll talk to you. I'll tell you all the details you want to know." Turning slowly, he continued, "For starters, Keagan's collection." He smiled at Logan. "See, I read the newspapers, so I know how the world works. I know his style, his stashing place, and his secret desire."

Logan nodded. "You know, that's all well and good, but since Keagan's dead-."

"You're not listening. And I'm no longer talking to you." He looked at Munch. "What do you say, John? Do you want to honor the deal?"

"I'll get back to you on that, Mark," Munch said.

---

"You can't be serious!"

Munch shrugged his shoulders. "Why not? If it gets us definite closure, then we could gift wrap Bruner for the needle."

Connie shook her head. "I think you're out of your mind! There's _no_ way that I'm even going to suggest this to him."

"That's quite the turnaround from this time last year, wouldn't you say?" Mike said as they entered the city. "Don't get me wrong; I agree with you. But, shouldn't we say this is his choice?"

"I might not be a shrink, but I think it would be dangerous to put them in the same room together."

"The question is," Mike asked, "How do we justify asking him in the first place?"

----------------------------------

Emil Skoda read through the pages per his patient's request. Emil didn't like the idea of silence or what he perceived to be lost time, but Jack refused to say a word until Skoda finished. What he read surprised him.

"All right," Emil said, not certain what to say, "This changes a few things."

"Really?" Jack said, a bit of sarcasm in his strained voice. "I think that's putting it mildly. Emil, it came out of the blue and she has no idea and I… Oh my g-… I can't tell you."

Emil watched Jack's body language, anticipated the wait time, and knew he'd continue on his own.

"I felt as if I was back there with Wendy sitting right there in front of me and… We were alone then, so I don't get… Who the hell am I kidding? What Alex said had… It shook, no…scared the hell out of me. Alex holding onto that ring…I…What the hell is happening, Emil?" He shuddered. "Am I going crazy or is she and it's my fault?"

"Didn't we talk about how many people you're responsible for?" Emil read one of the passages over again then asked, "Can you think of what might have prompted Alex to say that?"

Jack shook his head. "I've replayed that in my mind over and over again and for the life of me, I can't come up with anything. Reviewing the conversation and reliving that day, I felt like I was going in circles or spiraling into insanity… If I fell asleep, I don't remember when it happened."

"By the looks of things, I'd guess sometime this morning, if that." Emil looked him in the eye and said, "How did you wake up?"

"The children downstairs." Jack shook his head. "I felt terrible telling them that I had to back out of going to the botanical gardens with them. That's something they've- we've enjoyed doing fairly regularly. I actually owe Merle a bit of thanks for taking my place; so it wasn't a total disappointment."

"Is that how you're feeling now, disappointed?"

Jack stood up, undecided whether to pace or what, his hands still trembling. "Scared. Terrified, really. I… Damn it, Emil! I wish there was something I could do to get rid of this, all of it! Disappointed would be the least degree of adjectives I'd choice right now."

Skoda's secretary stepped in apologetically. "I'm sorry, there's someone out here to see you and they say it's urgent. I tried to-."

He held up a hand. "I'll deal with it," Emil said. As soon as she closed the door, he turned back to his patient. "Look, I want you to come in tomorrow. Actually, come over to the house after work instead."

Jack shook his head. "Your wife-."

"Is still at her mother's and isn't your concern. Come over and let's see if we can't get through this. In the meantime, do you need me to prescribe you something so you could at least attempt to sleep?" Jack shook his head. "Well, I'm going to anyway, just in case." He returned the journal to Jack then said, "Keep writing and I'll see you tonight."

As Jack left, Emil's visitor came in, puzzled looks exchanged between them all.

"Detective Logan, what can I do for you?"

-----------------------

"You're not going through with it are you, John?" Elliot asked him. "I wouldn't. I mean, I remember going through that Brodus mess and how his 'buddy' set me up for a phone call… John, trust me - no good will come out of getting conned."

Munch gave him a Cheshire cat grin. "You're assuming that Bruner's lying."

"No, I know he's lying. We've worked with creeps like this long enough to know how much they love stringing people along. That and…I don't like the idea of Jack being in the same room with him." He shuddered. "Hell, just watching him from the other side of the glass sickened me."

Huang walked up on the conversation. "So you want to push Bruner?"

Elliot interjected. "He wants to push Jack then in turn push Bruner." He poked George in the shoulder. "Two words for you, George. Matthew Brodus."

"What is he tempting you with, John?" George asked, ignoring Elliot for the moment.

Munch leaned back to cross his arms. "Keagan's collection, among other things."

"And you're sure we or the guys in the other precincts can't get that information by other means?" George shook his head. "I'm with Elliot on this one and-."

"That's usually a bad sign," Elliot quipped.

"And," George continued, "I wouldn't even suggest it to McCoy."

John looked from one man to the other, disappointed. "I thought you were all about facing fears, guys. Well, if it helps, George, I won't approach McCoy about this."

"Good," he said then left.

Munch leaned forward and whispered to Stabler, "I got Mikey to do it."

------------

Jack turned around, surprised to see Alex walking into the center. He quickly busied himself with updating the students' folders for afternoon sessions. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Patel seemed to run interference on his behalf.

With Alex distracted, Jack went into Zamora's office to complete the rest of the morning's paperwork. A knock on the door threw off his concentration.

"Mac?"

A smile of relief crossed Jack's face. "Hey, Spencer. Want to help me with the 'shuffling of the shifts' here? We've a few gaps to fill that I don't want to trouble Dennis about, yet."

"Sure, so long as I get the later shifts. I can handle nights better than you can."

"Gee, thanks. I'm impressed at how Dennis can make this look so easy. Between his absence and Sylvia's, I find it amazing, that's all."

Spencer laughed. "Oh, come on. If this was a subpoena or a motion, you'd read it like the kids read Dr. Seuss. Give it time and you'll get the hang of it. Speaking of which, do you mind if I pick your brain over a closing statement draft?"

Jack looked at him, debating. "I'll listen to what you have, but that's about it. I try to forget how to write those things, you know."

"Eh, it's like riding a bicycle; it's something you don't forget." Spencer took a look at the clock. "I better get the classroom set up. Do you mind if I leave this with you?" Jack nodded. "Thanks. Oh, and for the record, I don't think Patel can defend you much longer."

"I know. I'll be out there in a bit. And, you've got classroom B today. Ceiling tiles fell in room A and we don't have enough replacements until tomorrow." Before Spencer could protest, Jack continued, "Angelique's using the kitchen today for her classes, so don't start."

As Spencer left, the phone rang. Jack answered, not expecting the person on the other end, let alone the message. Before the call ended, he said, "So it means changing up the evening plans. Think I could handle it… Five? Fine.You know how to get here? Fine. I'll…I'll be…well, here. …Until then. Good bye."

Jack shook his head. He'd be what? Insane? Ready? Fine? He heard what was said and even had the same internal argument over the issue. But, hell, if he was making it a point of getting to the bottom of what had gotten into Alex, this would be… "Second dose of stupidity," he said to himself, rubbing his temples.

Unable to find anything more to stall the inevitable, Jack went back out to the main commons of the center, hoping against hope…and losing.

"Alex," he said plainly, giving a nod of thanks to Patel. "I thought you had to work today."

"I confess to playing hooky today," she sheepishly said. "I'm sorry; I probably caught you at a terrible time."

He shrugged. "Honestly, you've caught me off guard. I don't think I've quite recovered from last night, if truth be told."

"Oh," she said, the meaning of his statement going right past her. "Well, do you want to get together later tonight?"

"I've an appointment."

Alex nodded, acceptingly. "So do I, but I should be done by…seven perhaps."

He couldn't justify what he was about to do, yet knew he'd do it anyway. "Fine. I'll see you at eight."

"A date at eight, then." she said smiling. Squeezing his hand gently, she said goodbye.

Patel walked up beside Jack and said, "See, this is a reason why I am thankful for having sons."

"Did she say anything interesting, Patel?" he asked as he nodded a greeting to Cam and another student.

He was silent a while. "Interesting would be the right word to describe it, yes."

---------------

In one of the meeting rooms at Rikers, Jack, Skoda, Munch and Bruner sat about the table, each taking a side. Jack took note that an attorney wasn't present. Munch addressed it.

"No counsel for you, Mark? Are you up to something?'

Mark locked eyes with Skoda. "No. But, I see you brought someone I didn't invite to the party. Are _you_ up to something?"

"Would you rather I leave, then?" Skoda said calmly.

Mark sighed. "You took the trouble of talking to Jack to come and talk to me, sooo….no. You can stay, for now. I could change the rules anytime and then you might be leaving. But now, you can stay."

Jack sat at the opposite end of Bruner, hands folded on his lap, out of sight from Bruner's cold eyes, out of either John or Emil's sight as well, allowing Jack to struggle containing his anxiety. "Hello," he said at last when he could finally trust his voice not to quaver.

"Hello…Jackie."

He felt a cold wave wash over him as he fought to keep his focus on Bruner's face. Too many memories of things that happened after that name was spoken threatened to overwhelm him.

"There's your hello," Munch said. "I believe that takes care of our end of the deal."

Mark cackled. "So it does. Well, um, I've forgotten the fine print that goes with that deal."

Skoda spoke up. "Is this how you do things? Change the rules once they're met?"

Slowly turning his head aside, Mark said. "Another rule change, you… will… remain….silent." He grinned at Munch. "I'm sorry, John. I should have let you say that." Mark drummed his fingers on the tabletop. "Now where were we? Yes, the fine print." He stared at Jack, no emotion whatsoever, and said, "Jack stays…for the whole thing."

Jack knew it would come to that. However, he felt as if he had a slight advantage over Detective Munch or Skoda – he'd been through this drill before.

"So, John, you want to know about Keagan's collection? Or should I take a few steps back and charitably give you the names you lack?" He paused, getting Jack's attention. "What should I do, Jackie?"

Out of conditioned habit, Jack cast his eyes downward. "It's your choice."

"Fine," Mark said. "The girls they killed… If they were really valued, precious people, then better care should have been taken to ensure their safety. But, no, they wander. They wandered like stray pets. So many we took in. None of them left. You say you value human life, yet you don't pay attention when the beating heart's in a poorly looking vessel, do you?

He willed Jack's attention back to him. "We know all about different vessels, don't we, Jackie. It's amazing what happens when you break open a vessel and so many treasures pour out, never to return."

"I beg you," Jack whispered before he could stop himself.

Mark smiled broadly. "Oh yes, the begging…It adds something…sweet to their slaying. The warmth, the sounds, everything about it is just beautiful." Abruptly, he stopped and leaned back looking at Munch. "That's something Keagan never understood, or most of the others. For them, it was about trepidation, degradation, and destruction."

"How many did Keagan kill?" Munch asked.

Mark sighed. "Too many without meaning. The Winslows had to die because Jackie had the nerve to talk with one of them. That made him so jealous, don't you know. The Zamora girl, she failed an earlier test of sorts and deserved to die, not only for failing, but for ignoring a guy who really liked her. How is Benjamin holding up, Jack?"

"You just said he killed without meaning, yet you've explained three murders right there," John said. "Contradicting yourself?"

He shook his head. "Those are the only meaningful deaths. The others you'll find buried in a spot close to his brother's shop. Keagan kept coming by to brag about it. I dismissed him." Bruner took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "He didn't take that so well. He had to die, didn't he, Jack?"

"That was a suicide, Mark," John said. "Nice try."

"Ah, yes, put your faith in forensic science and facts. I put my faith in nothing. So does Jack." Mark looked at Jack. "Don't you, Jack?" Rather than answer, Jack wrung his hands.

"So," John said getting Bruner back on track, "who are the victims of Keagan's collection?"

For the next half hour, it was all Jack could do to listen to the details of the murders. No names, just details. He felt as if he were in two places at once – at Rikers with Bruner Schwimmer and Serena, and back at the warehouse. Jack knew he had to concentrate, to see if he _might_ be able to help identify the missing, but he found himself in a fog. Mark's icy voice snapped him out of it.

"Time's up."

--------

"Jack?"

He looked up to the front seat at Munch. "Yeah?"

John turned around to face Jack, taking his glasses off. "Thanks. I'm sorry and thanks."

He nodded. "If it helped," he said. Skoda had been silent for most of the drive. Jack couldn't help but wonder if the psychiatrist was trying to justify the reason for allowing Jack to go or to justify giving Bruner the audience he wanted. Either way, Jack wasn't going to break Skoda's rumination.

No matter how Jack looked at it, he knew he'd never be able to rationalize what he felt while facing Bruner, the tormentor, the overseer. Worse, Jack knew he could never explain why part of him wanted to seek out Paul now.

He had someone else he had to see first, assuming she was still there. Given her tenacity from earlier today, it was likely. As they pulled up to his apartment building, he dismissed Emil and John's offer of joining him for a spell, telling them he was exhausted.

Jack finished removing the puzzles from the paper and tried to reclaim some part of his routine. No sooner had he finished the first few words, there was a knock on the door. He set his reading glasses down, took a couple of breaths, and then forced himself to answer it.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Alex said. "My doctor and I just got to talking and before you know it…" She hugged him. "How was your appointment?"

"Over," he said. Jack watched her carefully, not certain what he was looking for. He and Emil talked briefly about the morning session during the short ride from the center to picking up Munch, but said nothing on the way back. Some suggestions were made, approaches created, but in the end, in the moment, Jack had no idea how he was going to go about this.

"Do you forgive me?" she asked, sitting down on the edge of the couch.

He sat down beside her, making it a point of not getting too close, yet not distancing himself completely. "For what?" If his feigning forgetfulness was a possibility, he'd take it. "Did I miss something?"

She reached over and took his left hand in both of hers. "Stop it. Lying doesn't become you." Alex caressed the hand a moment. "I'm talking about that ring." She stroked the ring finger a bit harder than intended. He winced. "That ring," she continued, "that's supposed to be on your hand."

Jack felt his mouth go dry as his heartbeat quickened. He forced himself to swallow once, then twice, before he asked, "How did you get that ring?"

"Someone gave it to me to ask you about it." She frowned. "Did you really think you were going to ask someone to marry you, Jack?"

He did his best not to pull his hand out of her grasp, did his best not to replay the events from the night before. "Why would you think that, Alex?" Only one person had been aware of the plain ring he knew was in his pocket still. Only one person had worn it on a long chain around her neck, all the better to tuck it under her sweater, out of sight and close to the heart, she said.

"Jack, stop dancing around the issue and just answer the question." He shook his head, not trusting his voice at the moment. "Fine. I think you could have at least attempted to explain it to me, if you trusted me."

He closed his eyes and hoped the pain would go away. He had lost too many people already and right now, he feared he lost someone else. If he only knew how… Alex's changed voice brought him to the current dilemma.

"Close to my heart," she said.

Tears streaming down his face, Jack didn't see Alex as she repeated the words that sent him tumbling into torment last night. He saw Wendy Douglas.


	13. Leaving

Chapter 13 – Leaving

"Close to my heart," Alex repeated in a softer, intimate voice again. "Jack, I'm trying to understand it."

He shook his head, wiping away the tears as fury took over. He mocked her last statement. "_You're_ trying to understand it? What is there for _you_ to understand? You weren't there! You weren't… You aren't the person I thought you were." He pulled his hand away, ignoring Alex's nails as they scratched him.

From the far side of the room, he stood still, trying to figure out what he wanted, no needed, to do now. "Why are you doing this to me, Alex? Why are you…? And what the hell was that you were babbling on to Patel about? What-?" Through clenched teeth, Jack said, "Alex, help me!"

It was Alex's turn to cry. "What do you think I've been trying to do, Jack?

"You tell me because right now, you've been building a good case for me to throw you out of here for good!"

Alex stood her ground. "Jack, you're overreacting. I'm worried about you. I'm trying to get you to see-."

He shook his head. "And that's quite an act you have going. I thought… No. I don't have to tell you anything more." He went to the door and held it open for her, waiting for her to move. "Leave." His arm trembled as he struggled to keep his rage under control. "Now."

Instead, Alex took out her cell phone then locked herself in the bathroom. Reluctantly, he closed the door, secured the locks and waited; his back leaning against the door. Some time later, she came out, looking everywhere, anywhere but at Jack. She made it a point of sitting on the opposite side of the room, rummaging through her purse as she waited for something.

He found the silence stifling. "I'm sorry," he said finally. She continued what she was doing. "I might have… from your point of view…overreacted." He sat down on the floor, a sense of déjà vu as he pulled his knees up to his chest, crossing his arms on top. Not making eye contact with her, Jack inhaled deeply before bringing himself to confess something that only Skoda had known about.

"Wendy and I exchanged engagement rings, if you will. I kept mine…safe. She kept hers on a chain, close-."

"Close to her heart," Alex said, still not looking up.

Jack nodded then continued. "That was our own private little vow – 'Close to my heart.' Our…" He looked at her and waited for her to respond in kind. "_Who_ gave you that ring, Alex? Please?"

A ringing phone prevented Jack from hearing an answer. She glanced at the number, never answering it. "I've to go, she said, practically running for the door. Jack barely had time enough to stand up by the time she reached him. He looked out the peephole before undoing the locks, not seeing anyone. The moment he undid the last lock, she continued running, getting into an idling car before Jack could even make it halfway down the stairs. The car rounded the corner without Jack getting so much as a partial license plate number.

--------------------------------------------

"You want me to do what?" Green asked. He knew he wanted something surprising to happen today, but this wasn't what he had in mind. "That's… Why, may I ask?"

"Do you remember Wendy Douglas?" McCoy asked. Green nodded. "The other day, Alex gave me her ring, Wendy's ring-."

"You never mentioned a ring before," Green clarified. He remembered the day he and Logan found the body and the day Rodgers had gathered what personal belongings the other woman had and bagged them. Nothing there could provide any clues to suggest a murder. "Sorry. Go on," he encouraged.

Jack nodded. "I've asked Alex repeatedly who gave it to her and she won't give an answer. The only thing I can think of is that whoever may have killed Wendy gave it to her. If… I mean…"

Now it made sense to Ed. "If we could retrace her steps for the last couple of days or so, we might have an idea. I'll see what I can do, all right?"

"Thank you, for listening to a crazy old man."

Ed chuckled. "Nah, man, if you were crazy, I'd have had the lieutenant listen to you instead." He wrote down some other notes, gave McCoy grief for having a landline at last when he took down the contact numbers, then bid Jack goodbye.

As soon as McCoy left, Ed picked up the phone to make a call. "Hello, Is this the Daniels' residence? Kenny, hey, how are you doing? I've got a favor to ask, if you're interested in a job…"

----------------------------

The guys gathered for another game of poker at Lennie's place, their numbers declining still. Logan threw down the first bet of the third round.

"So, where exactly did everyone else end up here? Lennie, you did give everybody an invite, right?" Mike asked.

"Yeah, I did. It isn't my fault you fellas piled paperwork on your partners," he said with a 'who-me?' look on his face.

Anita laughed. "Lennie, you can't tell me you didn't do the same thing." Without a care, she met and raised Mike's bet.

"Never. I always did my fair share." He gave Logan a menacing glance mockingly. "Didn't I, Mike?"

"Yep. I learned from the best on that sheety shell game. I can't tell you how much I loathed half of the forms you left me. So, of course, I give those same pages to Ed, and life is good."

Munch tilted his head, studying Anita before matching her bet. "That's called earning your stripes, isn't it? Share fair means Lennie gave you the unfair share. You live; you learn; you move on."

"Ah, those are the perks of being the senior, right, Joe?" Elliot asked. He frowned as the Italian raised the bet. "Now come on! How many silk ties do you really need here, huh?" he protested as he reluctantly threw in his share.

Mike made a face that didn't go unnoticed by Anita. "What is it, Mike?" she asked.

"It was an off-handed remark that Erin made when she stopped by the precinct one day while she was here. I don't know why I didn't think of it before, but…It was about her father's wardrobe."

Elliot shook his head. "You can't fault a guy for changing styles because he feels like it. Besides, he doesn't have to dress like a D.A. anymore."

To Lennie, Mike asked, "He only owns the one tie, right?"

Their host didn't bother looking up as he raised the bet yet again. "It goes with his one dress shirt, Mike. Other than that, I'm sure you guys might have figured out by now what he has against that wardrobe of old."

Anita narrowed her eyes as she turned first to Lennie then Mike. "What's this all about?"

"Trust me, Anita," Lennie said, "you and I don't want to go out of our way to see what these guys have seen."

She nodded, understanding. "Those two tapes. I only wish we were able to get some sort of clue as to who made them."

Logan said. "I don't know…I've got a bad feeling about that guy Stillman and gut says there could be a clue inside McCoy's place."

"What would you be looking for, Mike?" Anita asked, "He pretty much has the same daily routine, so I doubt…" She folded her hand after Mike's bet.

"It's one of those 'I'll-know-it-when-I-see-it' type of things." He watched his interrogation partner, expecting him raise the bet only to fold. "Do you think it was worth it, John? What we did, I mean?"

John nodded. "Cragen told us they're looking at moving up the execution date since Bruner waived his right to appeal."

Lennie looked at him, impressed. "And what did that cost you?"

"Besides a 'what-the-hell-were-you-thinking' speech once Cragen and Huang heard what happened? Actually costs me a sleepless night to tell you the truth. It was something Jack said to him just before we left. Don't ask me what it was because he whispered it."

Anita glared at the guy beside her. "I think it was reckless what you did. If I were Cragen I would have thrown you on desk duty before you could holler 'uncle.' It's bad enough as it is."

"We got what we needed, Lieu," Mike said. "He had a chance to decline."

"So you say," she countered. "I think we ought to leave that chapter of his life alone. Once we get this last guy," she added.

"Isn't it amazing," Elliot said, glad to see Fontana fold finally, "the various chapters or characters we've taken on in our lives? Me, it's just work and family. I shake my head wondering how my partner handles it sometimes. Like the time she was undercover in Portland infiltrating a potential terrorist group."

"Yeah," Munch continued, "problem there was she couldn't stay focused on the job in front of her, though. Took it upon herself to solve a crime because that's her nature. Liv said the room underneath the garage was the spookiest thing she had ever seen."

Joe shook his head. "Sounds like you can leave the job, but it doesn't necessarily leave you. Len, are you finding that to be true?"

He folded his hand. "Maybe. Then again, it isn't as if the job alone identifies who you are." Lennie noted the showdown between the younger seniors at the table. "Mikey, may I remind you this guy over here has a family?"

"Meaning what? Baby needs a new pair of shoes?" He made a face as he shrugged his shoulders. "Then you shouldn't be at the table maybe?"

Elliot smiled "Yeah, you could say that. I'm going all in." Mike's face fell as Elliot's smile grew into a toothy grin. "My family thanks you," he said. "So, who's all attending the execution when the day comes?" Only three hands went up: Munch, Fontana and Logan. "Then you're all braver than I. I intend to stay home with my kids"

---------------------------------------

"Mac, what are we supposed to tell the kids?" Angelique asked as they walked out of the meeting marathon.

"I'm not sure. I feel for Dennis. I mean about Sylvia… Did you have any idea?"

She shook her head. "There's a lot going on I've no idea about anymore, it seems." She touched his arm. "Do you think we could talk Patel into stepping up? Or maybe Spencer, even?"

Jack thought about it. "Patel could, I'm sure. Yeah, he would. Spencer though…" He lowered his voice. "I thought he would have brought it up at this meeting, but…he's accepted a full-time offer….out-of-state."

Angelique put a hand to her mouth. "Oh, my… What are we going to do? What are you going to do? All that time you spent helping him with… Mac?"

"I'm not taking his leaving personally. He has to do what he has to do. Let's focus on what we can do…for the kids."

"For the kids," she said, letting out a heavy sigh. "Maybe we'll get lucky and snag a college grad before they find a proper paying job."

They shared a laugh. "One could hope," he said. "There's nothing wrong with hoping." He eyed one of the workers who stayed late to work on restoring the damaged classroom. "Pardon me, what would it take," he asked the young worker, "to invite you to try a different type of job?"

---------------

"You've done quite a heck of a job, Arthur," Nora Levin said as they she and a few others gathered around their host. "Trading it all in for this election though. I always thought you were the best thing to happen to this office since Adam."

The Southerner swirled the drink in his hand. "Well, at some point, some of us need to move on to a bigger arena, right? Besides, I'm sure we'll find someone fit for the job at hand. What do you know about Abigail Carmichael?"

Danielle Melnick laughed. "If you're able to pull her away from the arena she's in, I'd be impressed. I will say this – you getting the job done with Bruner – that's a feather to put in your cap, Arthur."

"Are you sure you're defense, Danielle?" He shook his head. "No, I wanted to make sure that that needle was dealt before I left. I'm not in the mood to leave any dangling strings upon my departure." He nodded in the direction of another group of guests. "The fact that you got Jack here - _that_ impresses me."

Nora nodded. "Agreed. He hates gatherings like this more than you can imagine."

"Oh, I know how much he hates them," Danielle said. "It's a matter of making the right…arguments…to get him to attend."

"It's a shame, all this crap that happened," Arthur said. "He'd be the first one I'd encourage and endorse to run for the office."

This time Nora chuckled. "You don't think Adam and I hadn't tried that? Face it, Arthur; you're leaving some large shoes to fill."

"Yeah," Danielle agreed, "and the one who could have filled them has left law completely."

At that comment, Nora excused herself to join her friend who was talking to Paul Robinette and Ron Carver. "I suppose you gentleman are talking about something incredibly boring," she joked as she slid her arm into Jack's.

"Just lost opportunities and lost apprentices," Jack said. "Paul, I'm sorry-."

"Don't be," he said. "He had to have put up quite a front if he was giving you all of those files and such to thumb through." Off of Nora's look, Robinette explained, "There's a young man we both work with who should honestly become an actor; he had both of us fooled for weeks."

Ron Carver laughed. "Truth be told, Nora, these two are complaining about how they were turned into suckers."

"I wouldn't go there if I were you," Robinette said. "See, Jack and I are waiting for the last laugh if we win this little wager we've made with some others."

Nora took in the wry grin on Jack's face. "What wager was that, gents?"

"We," Jack said gesturing between himself, Robinette and a couple of other familiar faces nearby, "think Carver should throw his name into the hat. Tracey even said that if he does it, she'll do it."

"Tracey Kibre said that?" Nora asked surprised. "Oh, now Ron, you better. If anything else, you'd be perfect for the job." She felt Jack squirm as Carver's expressions changed to wry smiles of his own.

"Funny, some folks are saying the same thing about Jack." Ron said.

Nora shook her head. "Oh, leave Jack alone," she said good-humoredly as she pulled him with her. He responded by steering her away from the gathering completely.

"Thanks," he said. "I just have to figure out how to pay Danielle back for this."

Nora smiled up at him. "Oh, I think this warrants at least ten 'Dani's' minimum." They took in the evening scenery as the cacophony continued behind them. "Have you called Erin about your decision yet?"

Jack shook his head. "I haven't found the best way to say it, to her or to my friends here."

"I'll listen to your dress rehearsal if you want."

He smiled back at her then shrugged his shoulders. "It couldn't hurt, I suppose." He took a breath, about to begin when Connie Rubirosa approached them.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt." She turned to leave, but Nora called her back.

"We'll let you hide with us. But that's it; there's no more room at the inn," she said.

Jack's shoulders relaxed. "Change of plans," he said as he put his jacket over Nora's shoulders.

"Chicken," Nora said. To Connie, she said, "Stage fright. Can you believe that? I'm willing to wager that having a second opinion wouldn't hurt you, Jack."

He looked from one woman to the other. "Connie, do you mind being bored by a dramatic explanation practice?" Connie shook her head. "Fine." With that, he shared what he had planned to say to his other friends and family.

----------------------------------

Rubirosa noted the hour Alex came in. "Missed you at the dinner party last night," she said.

Alex tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I was there at the beginning. I just didn't stay long, that's all. How was it?"

Connie said nothing of the excuse. "It was nice. I talked to Jack."

"Oh?" Borgia looked up expectantly. "How is he?"

Connie nodded. "Fine. He and Danielle made a cute couple. Then again, he's a fine half of any couple." She saw Alex's eye twitch. "I think he disappointed Arthur, or more accurately, I think Arthur's jealous of Nora."

"Why?" she said busying herself with nothing in particular.

"Nora might have succeeded where he and others have failed; not saying Jack's taking it just yet, but..."

"Out with it," Alex said impatiently. "What?"

This time Connie smiled, if anything, to cover the concern she had for her partner's odd mood swings. "He might join Nora and take up a teaching position at the university."

Alex shook her head. "He can't do that!"

"I didn't say he said yes; just that Nora has him thinking about it. That's more than he's done regarding Arthur's offer." Rubirosa thought back to the call with Cassady the other day and saw that maybe the detective was on to something. "Besides," Connie said as if to alleviate Alex's fears, "Jack still has his job at the center and his friends there, so… Who knows? The fact that he's leaving his options open is something, I'd think, don't you?"

"I suppose so," Alex said, taking a small prescription bottle out of her carrying case.

Connie shook her head. "It can't be a headache already; I haven't thrown the paperwork at you yet."

Ignoring the comment, Alex asked, "What case do you want me to focus on first?"

"How about reviewing the Archer case? I don't want to risk any surprises." Rubirosa handed her the case file then watched as her partner went into her own office, leaving her bag behind.

------------------------

Green reached out and caught Cassady by the arm while he was still on the phone. "You're sure? All right, we're on it." He hung up and finished writing down his notes. "That was Connie. She says she found something interesting in Alex's bag."

Logan sat down with another cup of coffee and some more forms to complete. "So, we're snooping on our own, are we? I thought we had plenty cases not to have to make them up." He picked up a pink slip. "By the way, Kenny Daniels called for you; forgot to give you that earlier, sorry."

Cassady asked, "Good news or bad news, Ed?"

"Yeah." He glanced over the note, satisfied. Looking up at Cassady, he said, "Has Alex talked to you about her doctor visits?"

She shook her head. "Not like she used to, no. In fact I've hardly seen her at our usual breakfast stop. When I do, she's…tight-lipped about topics we used to talk about regularly."

Van Buren saw the expression on Green's face and stopped by to investigate. "What's going on?"

Green shook his head as if buying time on how to break the news. "Mike, that gut feeling you caught from Nina here…It might have some merit." Before Anita could say anything, Ed added, "Lieu, we may have found our sixth guy."

"Nah-uh. No, Ed," Van Buren said. "I already talked to these two about Donall Stillman. We need something solid before we go to Borgia for a warrant."

"No!" the trio said in unison.

Anita raised her eyebrows. "All of you, in my office. Now."

-----------------------------

"Have you taken leave of your senses, J.J. McCoy?!"

Jack had a bemused look on his face as Danielle uttered that seldom used name, reserved for when she was truly mad at him on a personal level. "That's between me, my senses and my shrink, I think."

Melnick hit him in the arm – hard. "If she hadn't killed you then, I should now!"

"Leave my ex-wife out of this, Dani," he said quickly putting his arms up in defense of the pillow she brandished now. "You, of all people-."

"Me of all people, JJ? What kind of medication are you taking anyway? That has to have something to do with it, I'm sure," she said, each sentence punctuated with a swing of the pillow against him.

He shook his head knowing he was wrong to make the suggestion in the first place, but he made it worse by laughing. "Danielle! Mercy!" It wasn't until he fell onto the couch that she truly let him have it. The 'beating' continued until there was a knock on the door.

Jack wiped away the tears of laughter as he combed his hair with his other hand. Danielle did the same and then excused herself to go into the other room. Once he was sure he could keep a straight face, Jack opened the door.

"Merle," he hiccupped. "What brings you here?"

The older man sternly crossed his arms over his chest and looked down his nose. "Remember how I said you kids usually keep from thumping or banging on the wall or yelling; how I said you two kept it respectable?"

Jack nodded. "I seem to recall that conversation, yes."

Merle shook his head. "Not by the sounds of it a moment ago." Merle's thin line twitched into a slight smile. "Now, I'm just over here as a concerned neighbor, you know."

Jack decided to have fun in mimicking the other man's struggling sternness. "O-of course," Jack said faltering himself, "It's the same as the neighbors beside Mrs. Richter's place."

"Don't be daft, boy. No one's been in that unit for a while now. But that's beside the point. The point is... It took you long enough to get to the point. G'night." With a wink of an eye, Merle turned to go knock on his lady-friend's door.

Danielle stepped back into the living room just as Jack finished turning the locks. "What was that all about?" she asked.

Jack continued chuckling to himself. "Oh, Merle's more than willing to give you away if you're interested."

"The only way that's going to happen is if I can guarantee Briscoe, Logan, Munch, Branch and a couple of others willing to carry you out when the time comes."

"Only if I get to leave happy," he said, failing to duck in time as Danielle threw another pillow at him.


	14. Liberation

Chapter 14 – Liberation

Danielle Melnick looked at the basketful of folded laundry in the bedroom that had yet to be put away. "It must be nice," she said, "to have such a pathetically simplistic wardrobe, Jack."

He stepped out of the kitchen. "I own a suit and tie. I just happen to be more comfortable in jeans and a sweater. What more do you want?"

"Jack," she said exasperated, "that's the only suit and tie you have. Same with the shirt."

"Your point?" he asked matching her tone.

She picked up one polo shirt after another. "This could be seen as monotonous, you know. Don't get me wrong, I don't find anything wrong with your pants or slacks selection-."

"Thank you. Neither do I," he said, taking the shirts out of her hand to put away. "Don't expect me to go into this, Dani. Not tonight, please?"

Danielle sat on the corner of his bed arms folded and watched him empty the rest of the basket. "I'm just saying I miss the snappy wardrobe you had before. What was wrong with it?"

"I'm not going to tell you." He heard the timer go off in the kitchen. Gestured for her to stay where she was, he went to silence it and to deal with the contents in the oven. When he returned, he continued, "You wouldn't want to hear it anyway, trust me."

She pursed her lips as she leaned back. "Oh, I think you're going to rethink that answer, mister, especially if you think-."

He shook his head, annoyed. "Do I give you grief for all the shoes you own?" She made an exaggerated point of inspecting the pointed heels of the shoes she had on. "Fine," Jack said, removing her shoes before putting them somewhere out of her reach. "I've already discussed this twice already."

"You're repeating yourself, Jack."

He gave her a look as he threw a sweater into the dresser drawer. "Let's just say, what _they_ had me wear during that time I've learned to distain, decidedly, I might add." Jack tried to wait her out, to see if he could get out of saying anything more. As usual, he lost. "If you want the rest of the story, I need a cup of coffee first."

Danielle followed him out into the kitchen, grabbed two mugs and poured them each a cup, before slicing into the spice cake she and Jack had prepared earlier. "You know," she said as they sat across from each other at the table, "there are…were questions I wanted to ask you about… Then I say to myself, 'No, that's like wanting to be shot by Vince Grody's killer's group again.' That's too painful to relive and not worth it."

Jack put a hand over hers. "You survived, Danielle," he said softly.

She covered his hand with her free one. "So did you, Jack."

They sat in silence for a while. Jack figured he owed it to her, at least a portion of an explanation. "I loathed the days that Keagan came into the room with a package. That always meant a new shirt – silk or something like that. Needless to say, the shirts – or rather the actions with a shirt – were more for him than anything. Every button I did or undid…" His voice carried off for a moment. "The shirt I own I can keep because Erin bought it for me. Plain, simple, meaningful – that's what I like about that shirt. Anything else just invites trouble. Stupid, I know."

"There's nothing foolish about that, Jack," she said. "Does that explain the tie, also?"

He nodded. "Another gift from Erin. They… there were no objections to handcuffs or rope. It was when Paul came in afterwards… He'd bandage the wound with a silk tie. Not practical, if you think about it. At the time, it was… Now it's…" He emptied the mug. "So, yeah. Some reasons for simplifying wardrobe selection. Don't recommend that approach for anyone." Jack gave her a weak smile. "That, and I don't have to put on the uniform of a D.A. anymore."

Danielle gave him a thin smile of her own. "And now you're free of that, too. Jack, I seriously think you should consider taking Arthur's job. It could do you some good."

"No. No, I can't, Danielle. As much as I miss prosecuting, arguing a strong case against a defendant… I don't have that energy anymore." They listened as the noise from upstairs reached a crescendo, followed by stomping feet. A moment later, total silence.

"Slumber party," Danielle said. "Remember when we could stay up that late effortlessly then get up a few hours later and start all over again – pure play and mischief?"

Jack chuckled. "Tribulations and mayhem. Oh wait, that was law school." He tapped the tabletop with his index finger. "I'm free to spend time with people who aren't being judged, or having to fight for justice. If Trisha and Trevor want to come up for a Potter pop-quiz, I can foolishly indulge. I won't admit to the many times I've found myself on the basketball court after an afternoon shift because some kids want to impulsively start a pick-up game."

"It sounds like you're finally free of your nightmares," she said.

This time he shook his head. "Almost." He looked at the clock. "It's late. Why don't you take the couch; I'll go..." He gestured to the bedroom.

"We wouldn't have this problem if you got a bigger bed," she reminded him.

He got up and kissed her on the cheek. "Well, if it's a matter of bed size, we could just make plans of me moving in with you. As you can see, I don't have much in the way of baggage."

Danielle returned the kiss. "I still like my closet space," she joked. "What time do you want to leave in the morning?"

Jack shrugged his shoulders. "Let's just see what happens."

------------------------

"Lieu, you mean to tell me that you haven't taken steps to investigate this Stillman character?" Fontana asked as he handed her some finished paperwork.

Van Buren sighed. "I'd rather we put our energies towards cases we have definite reasons to find evidence of guilt, that's all."

"All right," Fontana said. He sat down on the other side of her desk. "I suppose you've already called over to Cragen to see if his team might have found something, right." Van Buren gave him a 'give-me-a-break' look.

"Sorry." He leaned forward. "If it helps, I did call in a favor to a buddy of mine to get a set of the floor plans to the house. Now, I could arrange for another buddy to go out and check the place over."

"Just exactly what kinds of friends do you have to be calling in favors like that?" Anita quickly held up a hand. "Don't tell me." She sighed. "There's no way the search warrant's going to work, Joe. If you can come up with some other possible suggestions, I'm listening."

His eyes lit up. "This idea's probably, thoroughly, undoubtedly impractical, but it could work."

"I'm not going to approve this one, am I?" Van Buren asked warily.

Joe smiled as he got up to leave. "You can't disapprove of something you don't know about. Let me call a friend of mine."

Anita shook her head. "I'm hoping I won't be running into any of these 'friends' of yours on the wrong side of the bars here, Joe."

"Whatever for?" he asked feigning surprise.

On his way back to his desk, Fontana stopped to talk to Logan. "Do me a favor and hold off on bothering about that search warrant for a bit, will you?"

"Why are you telling me? It wasn't my bright idea," Mike said.

"True. You tell your partner and I'll tell mine. When we're done with this, I say you and I switch around the partner assignments."

Ed Green sat down smiling.

"Hey!" Logan said believing the other man had overheard the conversation, "we didn't say we're switching right off the bat, _partner_."

"Okay," Green said, not caring what the topic was that he missed. "I got some great news from Kenny. Stillman's gotta be our guy. When Kenny trailed Alex the other night, she went straight from the dinner party to his office. She was there for like an hour or so. When Kenny backtracked her steps in regards to the day that concerned McCoy- there again, a trip to Stillman's office." He turned to a page in his notebook. "Kenny asked around, in his own way you know, about how often she's been seen there."

"So, she's going there every other day it sounds like," Mike said. "That seems a bit excessive even for a hypochondriac."

Green smiled. "Yeah, well anyway, a number of these late afternoon or evening appointments are usually when Mrs. Stillman is away at her folks place relaxing. Or out at the bars 'socially drinking.' The missus is so absentminded Kenny says according to her friends, it's any wonder if she knows she even has a husband."

"A lush of a wife isn't grounds for a warrant," Logan said. "And the guy's a legitimate doctor, so there couldn't be anything fishy about the pills Alex has."

Joe gave Logan a look. "Why the Devil's advocate act, huh? Weren't you the one who-?"

"Hey, one of us has to be sensible about this, so….there." To Green, he said, "In the meantime, want to put that away so we can go question Mr. Stockwell about Ms. Darby."

Fontana sighed. "You guys have fun with that. Cassady and I get to talk to Mr. Reese."

Ed looked at him pitying him. "You guys just get cursed with those arson cases, don't you."

"Shaddup, Ed," Joe said walking backwards to his desk, "or I might let Nina have a _real_ talk with you."

Mike chuckled. "There's no accounting for bad luck, let me tell you."

------------

Jack walked into his apartment, arms laden with crafting materials, and left the door unlocked, knowing the Marroni and Cantor children would be racing either up or down the stairs any moment. There was a knock on the door just as he finished pulling out the lunch fixings. "It's open," he called out.

"That could be dangerous, you know."

He looked at Alex Borgia as she closed the door behind her. "Well, you weren't one of the kids on the invite list."

"Pardon?"

Jack shook his head as he continued setting things up. "Never mind. What do you want, Alex?" He tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice and knew he failed. He didn't care.

Rather than answer the question, she poked about the various materials on the coffee table. "Bringing your work home with you now, Jack?"

"Having a crafting hobby's great stress relief," he said sarcastically. "It's to make a surprise for our newly engaged couple in the building." He shook his head again. "Why am I even telling …? Say what you want now then go," he said sternly.

Alex shifted from foot to foot. "I've someone who wants to meet you, Jack. Tonight, if possible."

Jack thought about it, not feeling any sense of immediate alarm, yet… "If it's a shrink, I have one. If it's a doctor, I've one of those, too. If it's a blind date, I'm not interested."

Alex shook her head as if to say it wasn't any of the above. "Please, Jack?"

"Is it in a public place?" he asked. She nodded. "Will this encounter be brief enough that I wouldn't have to worry about losing sleep over it?" Again, she nodded. He thought about it some more. If he wasn't so determined to find out who had influenced her so, and not for the better…. "Fine, I'll do it. When and where?"

---------------------

"Are you sure this is a wise move, Jack?" Skoda asked during their early evening appointment.

Jack shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose we could say I'm extending my track record of poor choices of late. I know about the information Detective Green has found out. I know that Van Buren doesn't have enough for either she or Rubirosa to issue a warrant. Maybe…"

"Maybe you're walking right into a setup here," Emil offered. "What if, all this time while you've been worrying about Alex, that was the hook necessary to get your attention – to taunt you into returning?"

"Or maybe it's to conclude the confrontations," Jack said. "I haven't seen a photo of the guy Green suspects, but from his tone, I think he thinks it's Paul. He, Paul, has left me alone since… If it's him…"

"Are you going to be able to turn Paul in?"

Jack shrugged his shoulders. "I know you're hoping for an immediate 'yes.' I know that's what I should be saying."

"But?" Skoda asked, a slight disapproving look on his face.

Jack gave a short, definite nod. "I can do it. If it's him, that is."

Skoda tilted his head, contemplating. "From what I've read in your journal so far, I want to believe you. I want to trust you. Part of me however has to say I doubt you."

"Oh good," Jack said lightheartedly, "I thought it was just me." Jack shook his head. "So, what do you say to a fool who, enjoying freedom and all, is considering marriage?"

It was Skoda's turn to smile. "I did interpret those last few entries correctly, then. Well, I'd say, speaking as a married man myself, but you've already some experience in that, so I won't bother. Have you asked her?"

"In a manner of speaking," Jack said rubbing his hand. "Or as close to asking that fits our personalities, I guess, would be more accurate."

Emil figured a simple proposal would be anything but simple between those two. "And none of this was brought on because of the episode with Alex bringing up Wendy Douglas?"

"Partially. Then again, watching Merle and Greer, seeing life twenty odd years down the road… Why close that chapter of life completely, right?"

Emil nodded accepting the answer. "So, another lease on life. I can see the kids have offered you some incentives as well. Erin hasn't taken that as a subliminal message that she should marry sometime soon or begin a family of her own, does she?"

Jack shook his head. "Erin's the same independent woman who doesn't follow the traditional paths of anyone. It's funny, her time here, she seemed…different from the first visit. I'm not making sense again, I'm sure. Talking to her on the phone every week, I joking counted how many times she calls me 'dad,' and wondered if it's making up for something or who knows. Don't get me wrong, it's wonderful to hear her voice. It just seems… I can't explain it very well, sorry."

"Don't be. Personally, I thought her 'perceived regression' was her way of expressing relief that you were all right, allowing her to slip into a slightly younger role that you missed when you two weren't talking. That's just my two cents worth. So, what about Maine?"

"We're still…negotiating," Jack said slowly. "The changes at the center have had some pull in my choice."

Emil handed the finished journal along with a new one to Jack. "Just so long as you remain focused on the positive forces pulling you, too," he reminded his patient.

------------------------

Jack waited for Alex in front of the café she mentioned. It seemed busy and central enough to put him at ease. They found a corner booth to sit at. Jack sat to where he could see the door. Scanning the rest of the place, he thought he saw a familiar face, a witness, possibly a former officer, from a case years ago, then dismissed it as nonsense.

"Here he comes," Alex said getting up to greet the person who approached their table.

Jack was thankful that the young woman's back was to him. It was all he could do to maintain a practiced, neutral expression as his heart practically leaped into his throat.

Smiling, Alex turned to make introductions. "Jack McCoy, Dr. Donall Stillman; Dr Stillman, Jack McCoy."

"Pleased to meet you," Stillman said, a familiar warm smile on his face as he shook Jack's hand firmly. "Please, call me Donall."

Jack's face remained emotionless as he nodded, "Call me Jack."

"I've heard so much about you," Stillman said after they placed their orders. "I couldn't help but wonder who has had such an influence in Ms. Borgia's life."

"I've wondered that myself," Jack said.

Alex spoke up. "Seriously, Jack, I think Dr. Stillman would be perfect for you to see, given what's happened and-."

"You promised me I wasn't going to become someone else's patient," Jack said. "Nothing personal, doctor," he added.

"None taken." Donall spoke with a soft voice that no passerby would find menacing or unusual. In fact, he looked so average when compared to how well he fit in with everyone else. "However, from what Alex has said about you-."

Jack stopped him, wondering if Donall was the one who gave Alex the ring, hoping it wasn't. "I would have hoped you of all people would know that funny thing called doctor-patient privilege. The fact that Alex, no matter how well the intentions were, saw fit to tell you about me while you're treating her…That just seems a bit unorthodox, don't you think so?"

"Jack!" Alex said surprised. "That- you don't get it. I-."

Donall held up a hand. "I understand his concern, and I apologize. No insult intended."

The apologetic tone flared up a memory of one of the baths after… No, he told himself, he mustn't let the other man win. "None taken," Jack said.

It was all he could do to get through the hour without giving anything away to Alex, thankful for the many games of poker played lately. The conversations wandered about nothing in particular, much to his relief. Jack was aware of the numerous glances Donall sent his way, unnoticed by the woman they had in common.

"I hate to cut this evening short," Jack said, "but… It was good to meet you, doctor."

"Jack, don't go," Alex said, grabbing Jack's wrist.

He shook his head. "I wasn't going to go without you, Alex." She gave him a look as Donall studied him. "We could call cab and check out that shop you mentioned." It was a pathetic thing to say at the spur of the moment, but he had to try.

She gave him a confused look. "All right. Let me just…you know." She excused herself.

Jack and Donall waited until Alex was out of earshot.

Donall gave Jack a thin smile. "You don't trust her or me or both, Jackie?"

The smile Donall gave, the one that used to be comforting now sent a chill down his spine. "Why her?," Jack asked. "How did you-?"

"She came to see me, Jackie. Actually, it was her doctor, who was out, but, I call it a wonderful bit of happenstance. Poor girl, suffers headaches like you."

"Leave her alone, starting 'now.'" He stressed the last word as a finality hoping he wouldn't follow it with the conditioned plea.

Donall picked up the tab, counted out enough bills to cover it, then looked Jack in the eye. "Jackie, she can choose whichever doctor she sees. She's so concerned about you, it's any wonder how those headaches began. I guess I have been lacking in my job looking out for you, haven't I."

Jack shook his head. "Leave her alone." Alex returned and the gentlemen changed topics.

"Jack's agreed to let me drive you two home," Donall said grabbing his coat. Jack narrowed his eyes as Alex smiled at the news.

"I don't-," Jack started.

"I'm glad, Jack," Alex said talking over him and not hearing his started protest. "Of course, isn't that out of your way, Donall?"

He shook his head. "It gives us a chance to maybe set up another chat."

Jack knew what would happen whether he said yes or no. Reluctantly, he took the offer, because the Protector was right – Jack didn't trust him.

----

Jack walked into his apartment, locked the doors as usual and reflected on the awkward gathering. While he was relieved that Alex was taken home first, part of him expected Paul – Donall, to take Jack somewhere else. He wasn't certain what he expected, had that been the case, but Jack was relieved to a certain extent. He picked up the phone and called Alex. Knowing the time it took to get between his place and hers, the odds of Donall getting there so soon were slim.

After the fifth ring, he heard her voice. "I thought you said you had things to take care of," Alex said.

"Are you alone?" asked Jack.

There was a pause. "Yes. What is this about?"

"I need you to do something for me, promise me something." He would have rather had a face-to-face conversation with her, but time was of the essence. "Promise me that you won't see Dr. Stillman again."

This time the pause was longer. Jack expected her to hang up any moment or raise her voice to argue against the request. "Why?" she asked softly.

Jack took a deep breath, knowing he'd have to say this again as soon as he got off the phone with her. "He's the Protector…my sixth captor." He counted the number of times his heart beat against his chest. The click on the other end of the line might as well had been a knife stabbing through, he thought.

Sadly, he hung up the phone, deciding how to make the next call. A knock on the door interrupted him. Part of him knew who it could be, expected it to some degree. To make the call now or later, Jack debated. Common sense said to make the call and not answer the door. He was curious, though, what it would take to ensure Alex's safety from Donall.

Tried as he might, Jack couldn't see him as a Donall, having always gone with the Protector. But, a line was crossed when the interference into Alex's life began. Protector to predator - that was what Jack focused on as he went to answer the door.


	15. Limited

Chapter 15 – Limited

Jack opened the door surprised to see Detectives Green and Logan there. "I know this isn't poker night," he said inviting them in. "What-?"

"It's Stillman, isn't it," Green said, more as a statement than a question. Jack nodded. "When did he leave?"

"A few minutes ago. I called Alex – wait, how did you guys-?" He gestured them to take a seat anywhere in the living room.

Logan pointed at Green, "Let's just say someone called in a favor to a buddy turned private eye. The phone links go as follows- Daniels called Ed, who called me, who called Nina before we got in the car to come here. Don't worry, Kenny's watching Alex's place until Nina gets there – surprise visit, you know," Mike said with a wink.

Jack shook his head. "I knew you said you'd look into it, Ed, but I hadn't realized-."

"Let's just say we feared the worse when Kenny called saying that you were still in the car with Stillman, all right."

Mike added, "And from one Irishman to another, I wasn't sure what the odds were that you wouldn't consider going off on your own for a confrontation. I know that's what I would have done, but I've learned my lesson about throwing a punch, so…. Nothing personal, but…"

"None taken," Jack said, amused and annoyed at the same time.

Ed returned to the concern at hand. "All right, here's what we're going to do."

Jack listened to the officers' plan, wondering if this would have even been proposed if Lennie was here or if Van Buren knew. While he didn't like the idea of how many other people seemed to know what was going on in his life more so than he did, Jack took comfort in knowing he could trust these guys with his life –literally.

"Do we know where Donall is now?" Jack asked.

Ed nodded. "Yeah, Fontana took that detail, just to be on the safe side."

"You're lucky we weren't putting in overtime tonight," Mike quipped. "Then again, we're lucky Lieu didn't have any last minute assignments for us, either."

"If any part of this worrying you," Ed said, "we could alter it, to a limited extent that is."

Jack shook his head. "It seems like you guys have considered every possible angle, except that minor one called legalities or worse, dismissal for either of you guys…. Other than that, it's doable."

Mike looked him in the eye. "Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, we could go back to the drawing board and-."

The glare that Ed fired in Mike's direction wasn't hard for Jack to miss. "No," he said, defending the detective, "this is possible. I'll do it."

----------------------

It had been a while since Merle and Jack had resumed their morning walks together, given the wedding, honeymoon and moving of residences. It was a concession on Greer Hans' part that had Merle chuckling early on.

"When I told her that it was my duty to make certain you made it from point 'A' to point 'B' without a heart attack, she gave up arguing," Merle said. He ribbed Jack, "If it should happen that the roles are reversed, I know you know we're not telling the missus, right?"

"Promise," Jack said. They made their usual purchases and chatted with Meagan and a few other regulars on the block. For Jack, it wasn't quite the same, with some friends gone and new faces arriving. But, he accepted that as progress. The likelihood of the same faces, friends, almost-family members there from beginning 'til the end was unheard of anymore.

Jack worked his shift at the center, thankful that things were going as smoothly as they could for what he called a 'frazzled Friday.' Benji continued to be a role model; Cam excelled with class work, and at the rate Katya was completing her lessons, she was gearing up to join Patel as one of the instructors soon. All in all, the hours went by so fast, he wouldn't have noticed that he hadn't heard from Alex had Patel not asked about her.

"Let's just say," Jack said, "that I gave her a reason to be mad at me."

Patel nodded, the same thoughtful thin-line smile he wore when something was on his mind. What it was about today, Jack didn't know. "If she sees you as a real friend, she'll call. If not, you've lost nothing."

Jack thought about that as he walked back to his apartment. He was slightly apprehensive about the plan; reminding himself that the odds of Fontana, Logan or Green paying for any mishaps in it were slim….he hoped. Cassady was young enough that should everything fall apart she could change careers if she wished – or at least that was the excuse Logan offered when Jack questioned her part in it.

It was odd to pass two empty apartment units on the way to his own. If changes continued the way they were going… No, he needed to focus on the possibilities of tonight. In the meantime, he took comfort in the evening routine that kept him grounded when he needed it, like now.

He had just finished extracting the puzzles from the paper when there was a knock on the door. "This is it," he told himself before opening the door for definite trouble.

Stillman, donning a baseball cap and carrying a backpack over his shoulder, waited calmly with his hands in his pockets. Without a word, Jack took a couple of steps back to let him in.

"Have you heard from Alex?" Stillman said, turning to lock the door as Jack returned to quietly finish his puzzles.

"No," Jack said softly. "You -."

"I haven't heard from her, either," Stillman said as he paced about in front of the small television on the table. "That sort of limits our choice of plans for the evening, don't you think?"

It occurred to Jack something Logan had mentioned, from talking with Stabler, how careful Donall was around the cameras. Jack couldn't help but wonder if the same precaution was taken because Donall might have suspected a listening device was nearby. Jack continued working on the puzzles.

"I think we should go with Option B, don't you?" Donall asked, still calm, still unassuming, still making orders sound like kind requests. He turned on the set, the volume turned just loud enough to pass for an average setting.

"Refresh my memory," Jack said.

Instead, Donall turned the volume up. Then, with a finger to his lips, Donall silently issued the next set of orders to him. Jack complied, going into the bedroom as Donall emptied the backpack of its contents. Jack groaned inwardly, noting the pants and sweater were identical to what he owned. He uneasily changed into a completely new set of clothes, with Stillman watching on.

Satisfied, Stillman gestured for him to lie on his side on the bed. Again, Jack complied, wondering how best not to waver onto the wrong side mentally. Stillman lay down beside him, pressing against Jack's back, his mouth close to Jack's ear and whispered, "I intend to refresh your memory, Jackie, about a great many things."

Jack remained still as Donall put a hand around his throat. "Shhh, you're safe," Donall whispered, the hand caressing rather than choking. "It's just the two of us and I intend for it to remain that way. Understand?"

Jack nodded. As much as he wanted to ask after Alex, among other things, he kept silent. Most of the mending sessions had taken place when the others had gone or passed out or slept. Either way, it was almost always total darkness – the exception being the clean-up baths. If he figured correctly, Donall would wait until complete darkness before moving.

In the meantime, Jack closed his eyes, rehearing in his mind the next series of steps to ensure success in this insane plan. He could understand Mike's concern over certain points. Jack focused on those points, too, but only because he feared a different outcome.

"Shh, Jackie," The Protector said repeatedly. "Shhh. Soon. Soon."

--

Jack awoke with a start, ashamed yet not surprised that he had been lulled to sleep. That was The Protector's gift, even after the most painful of… The silence gripped him first, the emptiness behind him, second. The darkness didn't surprise him, taking assurance that he was right about one thing about the other man.

Sitting up, Jack waited. The clothes he had changed out of weren't where he left them. Curious, he felt around the laundry basket for the sweater he remembered throwing in last. It wasn't there, either.

"Time's up," Donall said softly. "I took the liberty of packing a few things for you."

Nodding, Jack grabbed the coat that Donall held out for him. He hadn't expected the secondhand shoes. Again, a silent command was given and Jack followed. Without another word, they left the apartment, walking out into the darkness.

---

Jack rubbed his eyes as he adjusted to his new surroundings. It wasn't the same place he was brought to the night Keagan died, that much he could determine. There weren't any wires overhead or any other structures to be seen. Nor was it anywhere near the city, based on the lack of traffic noise.

"Where are we?" he asked trying to suppress a yawn.

"Someplace safe," Donall said as he took some things out of the trunk. It was then that Jack noticed it wasn't the same car, either.

"When..? How…?" He didn't ask why, figuring the answer he didn't want to hear would be given soon enough. Donall didn't answer as he pushed Jack into a cabin.

Once he locked the door, Donall turned his back so Jack couldn't see where he pocketed the key. "Tell me, Jackie," he said turning around then walking to a lantern on the fireplace mantel. With the flip of a switch there was a dim light. "You had a chance to turn me in numerous times – at the park, at the restaurant, so many opportunities, yet you didn't. Why is that?"

Jack took in the setup of the small cabin. A kitchen to one side, a counter separating it from the main room, and two doors – one he assumed led to a bedroom, the other a bathroom. "I couldn't. The others' actions went well above and beyond limits of humanity. You… I couldn't. Then you had to go after Alex."

Donall nodded in acceptance of the explanation. "It was brave of you to warn her," Donall said. "Did you think I wouldn't notice the guardian angel you had hovering over Alex the last few days? That's my own fault, I suppose," he continued, "not protecting you better, hence poor Alex's headaches, hence your worry. It will be over soon enough."

Jack counted out the number of steps between the kitchen space and the bedroom doorway then back into the main room. "I didn't realize you were going to kill me," Jack said as casually as he could. The other five captors were reliable in terms of their personalities being somewhat predictable. Right now, The Protector unsettled him.

The familiar smile crossed his face. "Who said anything about you dying, Jackie?"

Jack sat in a rocking chair in the corner, if anything to ensure he'd have some sort of distance. He began rocking, contemplating what he was going to say next and the various possible reactions or responses to it. "Nothing was said of Keagan dying, so forgive me….please?" He paused. "You killed Wendy Douglas, didn't you, as well as the young Zamora girl. I probably shouldn't be surprised if some of the murders Bruner had taken credit for were your handiwork, right?"

Donall stopped the chair. "You don't need to concern yourself with any of that."

Jack met his gaze and continued. "Wendy's death concerns me. I couldn't help but wonder who could have given Alex the ring. More importantly, who could have possibly convinced Wendy into confiding-."

"It's amazing how strange people do that, isn't it? Wendy had to die; that's all there is to it. As for that simple ring you _lovingly_ gave her… Jackie, honestly," he said letting go of the chair to pull up one of his own, "that lonely woman told me and…." Donall shook his head. "What was it you told Alex? You don't owe her anything?"

"Why her? Why Alex?" he asked.

"You didn't think I noticed the look in your eyes that night you went out to dinner - that first night you ventured out with two lady-friends? I saw what she means to you. There were two young ladies before her, but alas they failed."

Jack shook his head, wondering if Dennis' daughter was one of them. "Why-?"

Like a parent losing patience with a child, Donall explained, "I had to set limits on you, Jackie. Goodness knows, that's been easier said than done since you left that facility. Don't look at me that way! Of course your daughter was off limits – I do set my own, you know."

Jack wasn't satisfied. "What limits? How much camera exposure you get? How much blood gets spilt? How many innocent people die? Or which people you intervene for?" he asked, his voice getting louder with each question.

He watched as Donall's fists clenched, opened, clenched, then slowly opened again. "Jackie, what are you talking about?" he asked.

It was Jack's turn to smile. 'I don't owe you anything." Donall's response was a backhanded strike to Jack' jaw. He spat out the blood in his mouth, before wiping his lips with the back of his hand. "You're not that different from Adrian at all."

In a pitying tone, Donall asked, "Why are you talking this way? Haven't I always kept you safe? Haven't I always tended to your wounds, comforted you when needed?"

"When you argued with Drake, you mean? When you threatened Barnes with bodily harm? Oh, I took great comfort in that, really," he said sarcastically.

"I cared for you after all those situations," Stillman said. "I helped ease the pain for you."

Jack nodded in agreement. "Of course, you just did it in your own loving, friendly manner. _That's_ one way to ease the pain –compound it with a lesser pain. Yes, I remember how you warmed me during those cold times, or after Keagan was incredibly hot-tempered. That's a savior, I'll say."

Donall leaned towards Jack. "What happened to the gratitude, Jackie?"

"Things change," Jack said.

"Do they?" he challenged. "We're together again, granted you've a bit more freedom than last time."

Shaking his head, Jack said, "Pity the same can't be said about your freedom once you've gone through your trial and get sentenced to Rikers with the rest of them. Maybe, with any luck, you'll join Drake or Marolf. Odds are against me that you'd join Keagan or Bruner."

Jack watched Donall's eyes, anticipating something, but not moving fast enough as he found himself in a wristlock, knees to the ground. "I beg you!" he yelled as he tried to position himself in such a way as to lessen the pain shooting through his arm.

"You're right, Jackie, things change." He pulled Jack up by the arm before shoving him full force towards a wall. "You used to cry out sooner than that."

Jack held his sore arm with his free hand occasionally massaging his wrist. He stepped away from Stillman keeping his distance as best he could. Slowly, Jack said trying to keep the soreness out of his voice, "Weren't….you…the one…who….said….time's up?"

Donall's chuckling was unexpected. "Enough of this nonsense, Jackie; I don't have the time for it."

Jack backed into the kitchen space and quickly surveyed the options. If there was only one door in and out of here, he'd need something to get past Stillman, if not at least to slow him down.

"Honestly, Jackie," Donall said losing self-restraint. "You forget the number of things I have on my side."

"Besides age and practice at holding people against their will?" he challenged. His mind settled on a heavy cast iron pan on the stove. "Or the fact," he said walking away from his weapon of choice, "that I'm tired? I'm too tired of…." At this point, Jack feigned exhaustion as he forced himself to cry. "I'm…just…tired. I…I beg you."

Donall cradled him in his arms, just as Jack expected, and rocked him for a while. Jack made his body go limp, allowing Stillman to carry him into the other room. His shoes and most of his clothes were removed before he was tucked under the covers. A moment later, the cabin in total darkness, Donall joined him, an arm wrapped around Jack's waist.

Jack kept his eyes open as he reviewed where Stillman had put the keys. It would be one thing to incapacitate Donall, another to get out of the building, and yet another thing to figure out where he was.

"May I ask you something?" he said finally.

"Anything within reason, Jackie," Donall said, tightening his hold on him.

"I don't understand. I mean, I don't… Why…?"

Donall stroked Jack's hair before answering. "Why not you? Shh, now, Jackie. You're safe. If you're smart, your delusional period has passed, too."

"Forgive me. But, I don't think it's worth it. That's all."

Donall's hand gripped Jack's sore wrist and gave it a sharp twist. "Don't talk like that. Ever."

Jack balled his hand into a fist and pulled free, surprised at the little resistance offered, before caressing the other man's hand. "Forgive me," he repeated.

"Good. Now, go to sleep, Jackie."

When he heard Donall's soft breathing behind him, Jack slipped out of the bed as carefully as he could. He grabbed the backpack along with Donall's pants and jacket and tiptoed out of the room. Putting his own clothes back on, he went felt his way to the kitchen to get the pan.

Jack smiled; the weight of it felt good in his strong hand, as the other gripped it if only as a token. He heard the creak of a floorboard behind him. Swinging with all of his strength, Jack aimed for where he thought Donall's head might be.


	16. Losses

Author's Note Part I – Pardon the later than usual posting of Chp 15- meandering, maddening muse and beta bargaining.

Author's Note Part II– Again, many thanks to McCoylover and Lynn for the daily support. Thanks to Fear-Ciuil for finding the spots where I strayed or slipped (ie – Elliot). And again, many thanks to RRSherlock for being the beta (even if I did sneak a few postings prior to proofreading/perusal.)

Chapter 16 – Losses

Swinging with all of his strength, Jack aimed for where he thought Donall's head might be….and missed.

Donall reached out for Jack's neck with both hands. Finding renewed energy, Jack swung the pan back in the other direction, striking his captor's head with the side of the pan. An audible crack could be heard as Donall's hand rushed to his temple. The blood flowed down his face as his eye grew red. The devilish menacing look convinced Jack that more than likely, one of them would not leave the cabin alive.

Donall swung a fist wildly in Jack's direction. Reflexively, Jack positioned the pan between him and the fist. The force of the punch however pushed Jack off his feet. On his back, he kicked frantically at his attacker while trying to writhe back to the corner.

Once again, Jack found his sore wrist in Stillman's grip. The pressure applied to it numbed Jack's hand despite his best efforts to pull free. With his good arm, he swung the pan in an overhead arch, missing the original target, but bashing his assailant in the shoulder all the same. The weapon fell out of his hand, but bought him the time necessary to pull free.

Jack lunged for the door, hoping he had the right key to unlock it. He tried three of them before Stillman tackled him to the floor. Raising his arms to protect his face and throat, he hadn't counted on Donall to use that against him, grabbing the same abused arm and using it as a bar to squeeze down against Jack's neck.

The keys that were still in his other hand were turned down to press just beside Jack's eye. Blood from Donall's face dripped on to his as he struggled to breathe.

"Jackie," he hissed, "I expected better of you! This is how you repay me? For keeping you alive? For keeping you safe?" He leaned closer to the unobstructed ear and whispered, "Maybe I should have gone after Erin instead. Or better yet, sweet Alex-."

Jack thrust his hips upward and to the side in an attempt to throw Donall off. It almost worked.

Stillman sneered. "You'll have to do a lot better than that, Jackie. Unless of course, you've something else in mind…"

They grappled. Jack knew the other man had to be toying with him at this point given the many chances there were to end it. The only other thing on Jack's mind – at a distant second to survival – was acknowledging the keys that had been batted away somewhere in the other room.

The adrenaline empowered Jack to finally break free from under his captor's weight. Back on his feet, he braced himself on both sides of the countertop in the corner; lifted himself by his arms –ignoring the sharp pang going through them - and kicked out at Donall with all of his weight as he approached.

The force this time sent Stillman crashing into the corner of the counter that separated the rooms. Jack slowly rose; grabbed onto the counter for support and waited for what seemed like an eternity. This time, The Protector was still.

Jack kept an eye on the other man while rummaging through drawers to find a knife, just in case. His heart pounding in his ears, Jack kicked Donall in the back, then the ribs before stepped over him. No response. He found the keys by the fireplace, still glancing back at the other man.

Rather than risk Stillman sneaking up on him again, Jack found some ties to restrain his captor.

--

Leaning his back against the front of the fireplace, Jack let the knife dangle loosely from his hand. He felt completely sore yet comfortable now that he had his coat on again. He watched his captor came to.

"Hello," Jack said plainly. Donall responded with a scowl as he fought the ties that bound him. "That," Jack said matter of fact, "was a lesson I learned from you. Did I pass?"

"You passed on to the next level, Jackie; I just haven't determined to what degree, though."

"Jackie's gone," he said. "I seriously doubt there will be a return anytime soon, either. But, that's neither here nor there." Jack met Donall's gaze. "You killed a part of me I'll never get back. For that, I could either hate you for the rest of my life or move on; accept the losses. Then again, without you, I wouldn't have had a life, would I?"

Jack thought for a moment. "I've been going over details in my head, trying to find some reasons to explain…. There had to be a time delay between the fire starting and you two shoving me into that shelter next door, right? I mean, tanks only have so much oxygen in them and you knew that.

"You also knew how to play the four fools against each other in such a way that… And Bruner didn't care. I haven't figured out if you helped stage the breakout, or if that was just another bit of happenstance. You're the main link, not Bruner. What exactly was in it for you to do it?"

Donall situated himself into an upright position and smiled. "You haven't figured that part out yet?" He sighed. "I know how Keagan felt now."

"Why did you kill him?"

"He killed himself; you saw that. Besides, it was either him or Erin. Would you rather I-?"

Jack shook his head. "I'm still trying to figure out – how was it you convinced the others not to turn you in? They could have just as easily given a description of you, as well."

Donall's face broke into a knowing grin. "No, they couldn't. Of the group, only Keagan and I could come and go as freely as we pleased. Barnes was foolish enough to enter this deal with several warrants out for his arrest already, even with an alias. Keagan…You didn't take him seriously. Me, on the other hand, I'm a doctor, Jackie. People listen to me."

"That doesn't answer the question," Jack said.

He drew his knees up to his chest. "Remember that day in the park, when you and I were just chatting; when I was so close to having you walk away with me before Alex intervened? You weren't certain yourself, were you?" He let Jack think about it for a moment before continuing. "Between the wig, the contacts and the dental implants, none of them saw me as I was."

Jack reflected on that. "The women, the girls you brought in to kill – some of them had contacts; I noticed."

Donall smiled. "Mine only made my eyes darker, Jackie. And not once did I have you pull on my hair when we… The false teeth, I had to remove before… So, you see, I could come and go as I pleased; follow you without you noticing; or better still, encourage a sweet young lady to confide in me."

"What happened to 'do no harm?' Or doesn't that mean anything to you?" Jack asked.

"It's about control within limits, Jackie. Drake and Marolf – they feasted for blood. Barnes wanted an offering for Bruner. And Keagan….he was just crazy. Can you honestly say that I killed _any_ of those girls?" Jack shook his head. "Exactly. Of course, you could kill me now and claim self-defense; yet you haven't. Why not?"

"I might have lost my life in law, but I know enough of it to say it isn't worth it – me being your judge, jury or executioner. That isn't my place." He paused before adding, "I refuse to become you."

Donall chuckled. "You knew your place earlier, welcomed it at times, in fact. Seeing you…"

"Was that why you taped the murders, the torture?" asked Jack. "Did you take delight in reliving others' suffering after a day of healing?"

This time, Donall frowned. "I'm still trying to figure you and these tapes out, Jackie."

Jack shrugged his shoulders, wincing once he did so. "Keep figuring, then." He got up and walked over to the door, opening it to inhale the crisp, fresh air. "I thought about throwing you into the trunk, but had to admit I didn't have the strength to carry you." He turned to look at Donall. "I think I've carried you long enough."

"So, what do you think you're going to do, Jackie? Could you leave me here when you have no idea where 'here' is? Or are you going to stay here, which was the plan all along?"

"Why did you have me change clothes?" asked Jack, grabbing the backpack that had the replacement articles.

"Why risk you wearing a wire?"

Jack smiled. "I suppose that would do it. Of course, it didn't do you any good, did it? My jacket-."

"Was clean," Donall said adamantly.

"You didn't check the drawstring, did you, or the 'lumps' in the lining. Granted, they didn't hear as much as they wanted, but, I've friends who, like you, weren't going to let me out of their sight."

Donall took his turn to smile. "Why do you think I waited until dark? Why do you think I traded cars?"

"That makes sense, I guess," Jack said. "I suppose it wouldn't have helped my cause if a tracking device was slipped on you, would it?"

This time, Stillman laughed. "I always wear the same coat, Jackie, so I guess you did miss your opportunity."

A wry smile came over Jack's face. "Did I? You talked to Alex yesterday," he said confidently.

Donall made a face. "Of course I did. She came to me. Why?"

"Nothing," said Jack as he walked out to greet the newcomers. A small group entered, with Jack entering last.

"Donall Stillman, you're under arrest for kidnapping, murder, assault and attempted murder," Logan said as he pulled the other man to his feet. He fastened the handcuffs just above the other restraints. "Anything you saw can and may be used against you…" Fontana walked on the other side of the suspect while Green stayed back a bit with Jack.

"I was beginning to worry," Jack admitted, handing his jacket to the detective.

Ed accepted it and offered Jack his own. "We'd have been here sooner, but… Tracking device, Jack? That was gutsy."

"Only as gutsy as Cassady getting approval for a wire under false pretences," he countered. "Besides, it looked like he was buying it for a moment."

Ed nodded. "Same here, if we had covered that angle. Don't' take this the wrong way, but, could we have relied on Alex to follow through if we asked her?"

Jack shrugged, uncertain himself. "Think that's enough to convict him?"

"Yeah. Oh, and some creative…conversation brought about access to the collection. If this recording doesn't get him, the others should." Ed put a hand on Jack's shoulder. "Let's get out of here."

---------

"So how did they find the cabin, then?" Danielle asked, awed as she listened to the details.

Jack nodded. "Evidently, Fontana knows someone, who knows someone, etc. So, it didn't hurt that I didn't know exactly where I was."

"You could have killed him, Jack; you were within your right, you know."

He sighed. "Danielle, if I did that, you'd have found yourself defending me for a second time. I know how cases of self-defense like that turn out."

"Is that supposed to be good or bad?" she asked.

He said, "If I'm on your side of the aisle, it isn't usually good."

She chuckled. "Thanks for your faith in me. I'm just glad it didn't turn into a worse case scenario." She put a hand over his bandaged wrist. "I'm surprised it didn't break," she said as she caressed it with her thumb.

"That makes two of us," he said. He sighed before resting his head against her shoulder. "How much time left?"

Danielle combed her hand through his hair. "About an hour. Did you want anything in the meantime?" He shook his head. "I wonder sometimes what you'd do without me, Jack. Nothing personal, but I feel as though I spend more time here with you than I do at my own place."

He closed his eyes, enjoying the moment. "I could simplify the commute issue for you, if you want. It might cost me a few more bus transfers, but it's doable, I'm sure."

She kissed him on top of his head. "Did anyone tell you that you're crazy, Jack?"

He smiled as he held her hand with his. "So, that earlier question I asked you won't get the answer I hoped for?"

Danielle playfully slapped the back of his hand. "It doesn't matter what answer you get because it's crazy either way. It's up to me on how I want to define 'crazy,' and as such, I need more time."

"All right," he said, slightly dejected.

She leaned over and whispered in his ear.

--------------

It amazed Lennie that Joey hadn't lost his touch in the 'favors' game. While he would have let his Italian friend have it for the risks he allowed Mike and Ed to get into, worse, adding to and encouraging it, Lennie knew he owed a debt good for life.

The community room rang with life, laughter and a good number of things Lennie hadn't allowed himself to indulge in for quite some time. He looked around, surveying the people who came. It was a 'for the hell of it' kind of potluck gathering that brought together friends from different circles. Part of him had come accustomed to Jack's new family, even if it took him a while to like it.

Mike sat down next to him. "Hey," he said handing him another soda.

"Hey," he said.

"Do you miss it?" Mike asked sincerely. "I mean, I've heard it said that they'd have had to wheel you outta the precinct, but…"

Lennie nodded. "Yeah, there are some things worth missing." He held up a couple of finger, "Other things however, are _not_ worth crying over." He turned to Mike. "Any regrets coming back to the 2-7?"

Mike shook his head. "The time on the island put some things in perspective for me, Lennie. I'll follow Van Buren's lead as long they'll let me or as long as she's there."

"Question is, who will be wheeling out whom, then, eh?" Lennie quipped. "Ah, speaking of the fearless leader…"

Anita waved him off as she sat beside him. "Sometimes I wonder if I really miss those wisecracks of yours, Lennie." She paused matching his mock serious look with one of her own. "Of course I miss them," she said. "Why else do you think I put up with the guys for poker night?"

"That reminds me," Mike said, "We're going to need to find a few chairs for the next round. Some of the slackers are coming back for starters; finally saving enough to lose to the cause."

Anita answered the question before Lennie could answer it. "For starters, you've totally ignored Cassady. Rumor has it, she could give Ed a run for the money – pun intended. And Danielle wants a rematch - something about wanting to keep an eye on a certain someone."

"Have they made it official yet?" Mike asked? Both of them leaned over and gave him a look. "What? I mean, it isn't exactly a surprise, but an official…_that_ would be a nice surprise. Of course, eloping would be, too."

"Lennie…," Anita said, leaving her request unspoken.

"Got it," he said as he slapped the younger man in the arm. "We're not going to miss out on this, Mikey. Beside, if he tries it, I'm sure his kid will kill him."

"Who am I prosecuting for murder?" Connie asked, taking the spot on the other side of Mike.

Anita laughed. "No one, if everyone does what they're supposed to."

"You mean," Mike amended, "if the couple was smart?"

Connie said, "Danielle and Jack marrying? I agree with Arthur – it's about time. So, any word on when the date is set?"

"After the trial, I'm sure," Anita said. "I'd imagine they'd want to put all of this ugliness behind them before they move on."

Danielle joined the group and the plotting continued.

From the other side of the room, Joe, Elliot and Jack stood watching the 'mini mob' as Joe called them. "If you're not careful," the Italian said, "you'll find yourself in some elaborate setup, complete with violins and rosaries."

Elliot added, "Either that or you'll be going to the wedding ceremony one minute; then confessional the next. Catholics…Then again, if you go for the proper Jewish ceremony…"

"Do you mean we couldn't just put a call into Judge Ross and be done with it?" he deadpanned.

John walked up in time to hear the comment. He leaned forward putting an arm around Jack's shoulder and said, "Try that, my friend and six best men will become your pallbearers." John paused. "Of course, Lennie and I could just smuggle you to Vegas or Atlantic City and be done with it. After all, since you're going to gamble anyway…."

The four of them laughed as Elizabeth approached them. "What trouble are you guys coming up with now?"

"None whatsoever," Joe said with syrupy innocence. "We were just reminding Jack about the importance of choosing a best man wisely."

"Uh huh," she said. "Jack, if it's the matter of a wise man, you're better off asking Emil."

Jack nodded as he excused himself from the group. "If you'll excuse me, I have to see about a lady." He quickly added to Elizabeth, "Not meaning-."

"Go," she said shooing him away.

He went outside, enjoying the decent day, and waited.

"Hi Dad!"

His face broke out into a big grin as she came up to him and embraced him. He held her for a while, treasuring this moment along with the others. "Hi, sweetheart. Are you here to weigh in your vote?"

"Do you mean it's a poll? What does the majority say?" He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You're right, silly question. You're just going to let them go on then, huh?"

"I can't take away the fun they're having with this, can I?"

She shook her head, amused that her father was as amused with this as well. "I came down for support. Trial starts soon, doesn't it?"

The smile melted away. "Yeah. Connie told me they drew Judge Ross for the trial."

"Jamie? I like her. She'll give him what he deserves."

Jack shook his head. "What's deserved is him pleading this case out so old wounds aren't ripped open. I don't know. Part of me doesn't want to go into that court room, Erin. Yet I know I need to."

She took her father's hand. "Whatever needs to happen will happen, Dad. You have to believe that."

He squeezed her hand in return. "I'll try, dear. I'll try." Pulling on her hand, he said, "Come on, there's a party going on."

--------------

Sitting in Part 72 was almost a return to the beginning for Jack. This was where he was supposed to have his trial for Neela's death. This was close to the other parts where the other trials took place. He held his daughter's hand as Judge Ross made her statement.

"Having allocuted to the aforementioned crimes, Mr. Stillman, I hereby sentence you to no less than fifty years and no more than the length of your natural life at a facility to be decided by the Department of Corrections. Truth be told, Mr. Stillman, if there was a definite candidate for the death penalty, it is most certainly you. However, given the victim's statement, and the logic I believe I see behind it, may you use the time to reflect on the damage you've caused to numerous lives during this time. This case is closed. Dismissed."

Alex went up to Jack hesitantly. "I'm… I…"

"We're okay," he said, giving her hand a quick squeeze. "I mean it."

"You're sure?" she asked as Connie shook her head.

Jack nodded, noting the smile on the senior D.A.'s face. "You've a lot a work ahead of you, you know," he told Rubirosa.

This time Connie laughed. "Don't I know it."

Before they left the galley, the bailiff called over, "Mr. McCoy? The judge would like a word with you, please?"

Father and daughter glanced over at the prosecutors' table. Both Rubirosa and Borgia shrugged. Lennie put a hand on Jack's shoulder. "Do you want support?" he asked.

Jack shook his head. "It's Judge Ross, so I should be fine. I'll meet you in the hallway, all right?"

Jamie finished hanging up her robes when Jack entered. "Hi," she said.

"Hello," he said. "You wanted to see me?"

She motioned for him to have a seat on the couch where she joined him. "I just wanted to let you know that…I'm impressed by what you did, Jack. I don't think I could have requested a life sentence after something like that. If anything, I'm surprised the D.A. allowed it. Stillman deserves to die after what he did to you."

Jack nodded in agreement. "True. I know how often I fought for that sentence when it was warranted. I don't know if I can explain it, Jamie. I mean, you're welcome to change the sentence by all means, that's your right and-."

"I know, Jack. But, I'm letting your voice influence my choice; another thing I'm allowed to do." She looked him in the eye. "I hope this brings closure for you; I really do."

"Thank you, Jamie. I hope so, too."

---

"Based on what I've heard and seen so far," Emil said, "I think you should be committed."'

Lennie chimed in, "Don't you think we've been telling him that?"

"Leave my father alone," Erin said halfheartedly. She kissed him on the cheek. "I'm going back to finish packing. Uncle Lennie?"

"Oh, sure," he joked, "drag me along to help you box." He took care of the tab. "Don't be too long, all right?" he said.

Emil and Jack left the café and headed to his office a couple of blocks away.

--

It was all Emil could do not to smile as he had, once again, a sense of déjà vu, as they took their spots. Despite himself, Emil's first comment was almost exactly the same as the last time. "How do you feel about the outcome? Is it complete closure this time?" he asked.

"Perhaps," Jack said nodding his head. "I'm glad to put the last of the monsters behind me."

Seriously, Skoda repeated his question. "Why didn't you want the death penalty for Stillman? Are you seeing him as a protector?"

"No," Jack said. "Bruner was set for the death penalty before this happened. So were Drake and Marolf. Barnes…I'm not surprised that he died in prison. I guess it was revenge in some way on my part – reminding him of his oath of doing no harm by not wanting him dead, even if I did." He paused. "I told him it was because I didn't want to become him."

They continued debriefing the events since the ordeal. Afterwards, Emil asked, "So, what happens now?"

Jack looked at his hands. "I still have to go back and finish packing. After that…" He paused. "I'm surprised, in a way."

Skoda smiled. "Oh? Why is that?"

"I think if you were to ask me, say five years ago, if I saw myself doing this, or being here where I'm at now, I'd laugh. Part of me was just like Lennie – in that I'd work until they wheeled me out of there. But, I've no regrets. I mean, there's sadness, yes, and missed chances, but… I feel like I can finally move on."

Emil nodded, satisfied. "Do you want to keep on journaling or what would you like to do?"

"I might continue with it, who knows. Might keep things in front of me in black and white as you say, especially if the time between visits…"

"Good to hear that, too," Emil said. "So, we'll set up another appointment for say, a month from now. Does that work for you?" Jack nodded. "Good. Well, you better get going before Briscoe sends Logan or Green here looking for you."

------

Danielle followed Jack into the apartment. As she removed her jacket, she noticed something different. "Where's your couch? Why do you have a different couch?"

"The Cantor kids crushed theirs treating it like a trampoline," Jack said.

"So what, you reward them with another one? What were you thinking?"

"How about pitying the parents? I forgot which in-laws are coming, but, come on, Danielle."

She inspected it size saying, "It's a bigger bed."

"It's a hide-a-way bed," he said. They changed into night clothes and settled into the middle, Danielle nestled up against Jack as he let her take an arm and wrap it around her waist.

"Just because you found a way to tie the score doesn't mean you better be thinking that you can actually win, you know that, right?"

"Yes, dear," he said. For the first time in over three years, he found threads of pleasant thoughts and hopes to hold on to. "I wouldn't dream of it."

The End.


End file.
